#and are we surprised she's SO defensive of the circle she was taken to the circle as a young young girl it's all she's ever known

[faerune]

i just love nelia so much i love that she's a hero not because she's necessarily a good person (she tries ok she gets better) but because she's too arrogant and stubborn to take any other route

like of course she's going to take on insurmountable odds and save everyone she's nelia fucking surana

[irasamu]

 . . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 RIDE IT, FOLLOW MY LEAD ; a nakahara chuuya fic.❞

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . here, a chu fic.. in my defense, i blame my upcoming exams and busy schedule for posting so late.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; older brother's bestfriend!chuuya, fem!reader, nsfw, mutual pinning but confessions aren't direct, riding, cowgirl, virginity loss, mentions of consensual prostitution, spitting (not in mouth), angst and yeah that's all i can remember.

many things are kept away or hidden from children. drugs and intoxicated substances are usually tried to keep away from the reach of addicts and the lust for blood and itching for violence is desperately being avoided by a one time murderer with crooked morals.

yet the outcome remains the same most of the time with the forbidden being taken by the one it was supposedly kept away from is the one they acquire. it's a given in due course of time.

yet still chuuya watched for years as your brother tried to play the role of a protective brother and keep you away from most of his friends and social circle, the amount of his friends you met could be pathetically counted on one hand and even they haven't met you many times to actually put an identity and persona to your face except the title of being their 'friend's little sister.'

all but one.

"shit." your brother curses lowly, closing his eyes as he tried to find a way out of this sudden complication. he opened his eyes again and glared at you who showed up unannounced.

"i-i just wanted to surprise you -- i --"

and even now the ends of chuuya's lips quirk up when he saw you standing while gulping, cowering under your brother's glare.

"it's not about coming here unannounced or announced, it's about what would have happened if you didn't know your way? you would have been lost here and i wouldn't have a clue because i would be drunk out of my mind! you hear me?" your brother exclaimed loudly yet you don't fight like you usually do for each syllable he spoke, he raised the frequency of his voice to get his words across your brain.

"i am sorry --"

"i am not angry." your brother intrupted your apology but with the way imaginary annoyance dripped down his eyes as he continued to glower down at you told you anything but that.

"i can stay at a hotel or --"

"nonsense. i am not letting my sister stay at a cheap hotel when her brother has a good enough place for her to stay." your brother once again intrupted you, he glanced at the clock and furrowed his eyebrows.

"not good, there is an hour we have left to think of some solution." your brother muttered before he turned to look up at the second floor where the two rooms are -- one belonging to him and one to chuuya.

"well the solution is standing infront of you bastard." the boastful voice belongs to the red haired who spreaded his arms and looked at your brother with eyebrows cocked, faux offense painted all over the preety features which michelangelo would be in awe of and be inspired by.

your brother mimicked his best friend by raising his own eyebrows as he demanded the man before him to answer and make his point clear and maybe this is why he turned a blind eye to the way your eyes sparkles as you stare at the red haired man who you always favored over any other man.

"she can stay with me in my room till your party is finished, no?"

"you won't be attending?" your brother furrowed his eyebrows but didn't bother saying anything as he saw chuuya walk towards you and sling an arm over your shoulder.

"i rather not have iguana cling onto me. plus it's been so long since i last saw doll, let me catch up with her?" chuuya looked at you with the same gentleness which could be found in your brother's eyes when you aren't looking at him and your brother's eyes soften.

he is staring at the man who he could trust his life with, you with.

"iguana?" you repeat, a smile threatening to break onto your face at the joy of knowing chuuya and your brother still hold onto their silly habit of giving nicknames to people so they can shit on them later 

"yeah doll, iguana is a verrrrry mean and bitchy girl." chuuya widened his eyes playfully to faux seriousness, comfortingly squeezing your forearm as he joked with you.

the tragedy started when the poverty ridden man found illegal means to acquire quick cash to fill his stomach.

and tragedy began when your brother, a man of looks and a bad personality which rich girls usually swoon over met his pandora's box and never closed it for what easy way to make money then to be the fantasy of girls who eat french cuisine for breakfast, italian for lunch and japanese for dinners? and who can make him experience success better then those boys who drives ferraris in the day and spend the nights in bmw's with a girl on their laps?

prostitution on his own will where he is the abuser and he is the abused. he is the hopeless in a situation fabricated by your parents but you don't need to know it. any of it. for he would prefer if you still saw him as the brother you always knew, he is enough to feel disgusted by himself and chuuya is enough to have sympathy for him.

that exchange took place fifty five minutes ago and so this was why you are now laying on chuuya's bed after taking a shower, arms and legs spread as you stared up at the ceiling, basking in the silence of the room and the giddiness of your heart of being in the room of the one who first made you swallow the innocent drink of a crush which stirred into a drug of love.

the door to the room opened to pull you out of your lovesick and teenage girl like thoughts, you leaned your head up to see chuuya enter, half body inside the room while the other remained outside in a very obvious way to tell you that he had been stopped by someone on his way to the room.

you sat up, leaned a bit forwards to hear the voice of the man who made goosebumps to litter your skin,

"yeah man, kinda don't feel good today or i would've joined the party for sure." chuuya chuckled and exchanged a few more short words with whoever he is talking to before he turned around to face you, closing the door and locking it as well.

you tilt your head as you hear the click indicating the door is locked and safe from outside intruptions and chuuya grins, the same boyish grin which promised nothing but thrill and excitement from all those years ago and it sturred the same feeling of being smitten with the man infront of you who now stood right infront of you, hands on his knees as he leaned to be on the same eye level as you.

"just making sure no drunk bastard barges here doll. can't i be protective of the precious doll in my room?" chuuya is a big tease. a very big and mean tease for if not then why would he play with the fire that is your heart by caressing your cheek with his knuckles.

you immediately look away to distance yourself from the addicting touch of the attractive and fanciable man, eyes falling on the skateboard leaning against the wall instead.

"you still skate?" you ask as you try to change the topic but chuuya had never been one to be easily stirred away from his goals, his knuckles still felt the smoothness and roughness of your skin. his eyes were still trained on your face as he stared, earnestly.

"gotta have something up my sleeve to impress you, no? my doll is getting prettier every time i see her, i gotta work to maintain my position as your favorite, yeah? am i still your favorite?" he teases you and it's at moments like this which makes you be aware of the tease which he is, his words which drips with playful flirtation. oh shit, you feel your heart beating quicker.

chuuya nakahara is the type of guy daughters are kept away from. older, a tease, someone who isn't afraid to talk using their fists when words fail to make a point clear and a foul mouth to combine with his devilish features.

the devil may wear prada but chuuya nakahara wears a leather jacket and choker.

yet he is also the same boy who you met all those years ago when he first moved to your area, the guy you introduced your brother to and watched them clicking instantly to even watching them leaving together for university.

"you were and will always be my favorite." you mumble and nearly feel the charms of the man named chuuya choking you when he tilts his head as he heard you before he grinned, reassurance and confidence flowing through his veins and mixing with his blood.

"you are my favorite girl too, doll. my only girl." chuuya whispered in a tone which can be imagined to be close to a murmur and a whisper, as his words were meant only for you to hear.

he relished in seeing you squirm under his intense gaze as you looked away and chuuya furrowed his eyebrows in amusement as he saw your lingering stares at his skateboard increase, he asked,

"wanna try it?" gently oh gently did the wind blow through the garden you sat alone in or is it chuuya's loving voice that is stirring emotions in the garden of feelings of your heart?

you shake your head softly but he pouts, he saw the intrest glinting in your eyes.

so he does what he does best. making girls fall for him and his charms but there is only one he will catch from falling into the abyss of heartbreak.

"come on, i am gonna be there to catch you. trust me doll." why is he suddenly being so adamant, he doesn't know. but he does know that he should be viewing you as the little sister of his bestfriend and not as an insanely preety woman in his room.

the woman infront of him right now was previously the girl he used to carry on his back whenever he and your older brother used to go out and took you with them.

chuuya's eyes trail down your neck to your collarbones to those two sinful mounds on your chest which makes it very evident that you aren't the pubescent girl anymore but an actual grown woman.

and what better way to greet himself with this better reminder that the woman infront of him is the sister of his best friend than to indulge in innocent activities with her like he used to?

but your stubbornness to remain seated and not cause any noise which could possibly ruin whatever party your brother is having downstairs is being a big hindrance in this self realization trip chuuya wants to take his heart on.

for would he really break his bestfriend's trust like this even after knowing he is the only person your brother could blindly trust you with?

no, he can't.

chuuya playfully rolls his eyes to make it seem as if his inner self isn't torn between choosing what's right for his heart or what's right for his conscience, he extended his arm as if reaching for a decision but what good is it when both include you?

chuuya's hand wraps around your wrist as he pulled you to stand up and when you widen your eyes in surprise at his action, he wonders if you are walking on the same thin rope of desire and conscience.

"i will catch you from falling." chuuya muttered but the way his voice is low, his usual teasing and playful tone absent, can one really be ignorant to think he is still talking about the skateboard?

"always?" you whisper out and isn't it great that you two have a skateboard to use as a decoy for speaking about matters much deeper then the wood the said skateboard was craved from?

"i'll be damned if i don't." chuuya whispered and smiled before his smile faltered a bit and he chuckled nervously, this chain reaction of emotions within him made you feel as if you are the only one who wants to push the boundaries to the point of no return while he is comfortable with where you two stand right now.

you nod, not as excited as chuuya hoped to see but he doesn't let this bring his mood down, instead, he releases his grip on your forearm to hold your hand instead, leading you towards his skateboard which was proped against the wall.

chuuya leaned down to pick it up and as he did so, his hand brushed against your knee which made you gulp the shaky breath which were to leave your mouth to let chuuya know the effect of his touch on your body, trapping the breath inside your chest forever.

"i never tried skateboarding." you feel it's appropriate to let him know in advance of what an immature and inexperienced student he will be dealing with but chuuya stood straight after placing the skateboard on the ground, one leg on the skateboard while the other was on the floor, he waves his hand.

"this is why i want to be the one to teach you doll. trust me, yeah? i'll catch you before you fall."

and what could you do except nod, trusting the man as you grabbed his hand which he offered, you looked down at the skateboard and with a uncomfortable feeling gnawing at your heart, you slowly raised to place one of your feets on it, going for the centre of the board till chuuya stopped you,

"not here, near the ends. if you stand on the centre then you will loose your balance." he guided you as your heart felt a violent flutter when you noticed his leg which was still planted on top of on the skateboard to offer you stability on this otherwise unstable object of joy and amusement.

you nod and tightened your grip on his palm as you placed your leg on the end of the skateboard while his remained on the other end and he stood behind you, the free hand of his itching to close the distance between his palm and the curve of your waist.

"good, now try to lift your second leg up as well, put the weight on this one." he pats your thigh of the leg planted on the skateboard and you gulp, out of fear or out of desire?

chuuya didn't notice you biting your bottom lip for he was looking down at your shaky leg with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, he muttered next to your ear,

"come on, try it." the gravel and low tone one of the man had you nearly closing your eyes but you resisted, the grip on his hand tightened even more as you lifted your leg from the ground for the slightest second before yelping, grabbing onto chuuya's arm with both hands as you felt your body shake due to the rawest taste of feeling the control you have over your body leave you as gravity plays a little trick on you to take advantage of the instability of your body.

but chuuya has always been the one to have an effect more stronger then gravity on you, it's like gravity bends to his will.

so it isn't a shock when chuuya's arm is wrapped around your waist as he pulls your body towards his, chuckling breathlessly as if he just recovered from being taken aback,

"easy there doll, i got you." he whispers, you nod.

he makes you regain your balance and you allow him to lead, his hand on your hip while you remained clasping one of his hands with your own to have support.

the hand on your hip tightened its hold and you wonder if it's how it would feel to have him grip you while your naked bodies laid sprawled with each other's?

"slowly . . . slowly, yeah, that's it . . . right there, such a good girl." chuuya guided you but your brain is salacious or why would your thoughts revolving your older brother's bestfriend be filled with concupiscence?

but alas, had the heart not been strong to a fault, would the humankind have gone through the many tragedies and achievements it did?

and chuuya's heart always had a hold on his brain so when he spoke the next sentence, it is utmost important to know his intentions behind it, he does when he does in a spur of emotions, of his desires which tickled him whenever he looked down to see his hand grabbing your hip and he almost had a urge to lift the cloth of your loose t-shirt up to see the skin his hands are on top of.

"did you kiss anyone while i was away?" he rapsed out and gulped thickly when he realised his words but what is giving him confidence to keep going on is the way he heard your breath hitch despite the blaring music from downstairs. and so he did.

"pardon?" you breath out and blinked.

"i will pardon you, no doubt in that." chuuya smirked, once he saw you purse your lips with no signs of discomfort or anything related to it on your face, "eyes on the skateboard doll." he tsked.

"right, right." you breath out as if being shaken awake from whatever daze you went in after listening to his words. now that chuuya's feet wasn't on the skateboard any longer, you felt even more nervous and scared.

"so did you? you know it's not nice to not answer someone." he mumbled, using his leg to guide your other leg on top of the skateboard.

his knee is pressed against the back of your's as he moves your leg sideways to find the perfect position for you to stand in without wobbling constantly, all while the other hand gripped and gripped your hip more tightly and the thought that it would be sure to leave a mark, his mark, is making his breathing pattern to be disturbed, hastening it's pace.

"no." you shakily breath out before repeating yourself in a more presentable and audible tone, "no i didn't, did you?"

you screwed your eyes shut, the instinct to show the same curiosity he did took the best of you and once the words were spoken, you were left all alone with your embarrassment in your body.

chuuya scooted a bit closer to you as if he wasn't already way too close then needed but who were you to point it out when you liked the body heat he radiated and the smell of his cologne faintly hitting your nose, but this step closer to you made his crotch to brush against the plush of your ass and you did everything to not grind against him or try to feel his crotch again.

"i didn't as well." he whispers, head dipped to such an angle that when he spoke, his breath hitted your jaw and is this how consuming cocaine for the first time feels like as well?

no wonder they are taboo and kept away from the curious minds.

"why? you are such a preety guy, don't you have girls begging to fall on your lap?" your curiosity couldn't be stopped now once it flowed out of the chambers of your brain. now, this curiosity flowed out and wrapped around chuuya's heart to make it feel giddy to know you care enough to be this invested in his personal affairs.

"ah," you exclaim as he makes you stand on the skateboard, your imbalance leading you to grabbing his shirt but as he stood behind you and you grabbed the nearest support you could find, you did not realize your grip was painfully near the waistband of his sweatpants because what need is there for you to look back when you were able to feel the faint outlines of his abs through the fabric of his cloth?

he helped you to stand on the skateboard and when he moved back to make you stand without his support, your knees wobbled and you widened your eyes as you were to fall backwards if it wasn't for chuuya to wrap his arms around your hips.

"got the girl i wanted to have on my lap finally." chuuya mused before helping you stand again, his hands on your hips as he stares down at your legs before he leaned down a bit to place his hand on top of your knee and your eyes widened for why would they not when your drug is flowing though your veins and into your kidney?

chuuya guided you to the position he deemed right before he stood up straight and as he did, so did the impure blood which was now once again filtered yet why did the drug still flow with it? why did it not get filtered?

you exhale a shaky breath as chuuya takes a step back after and you wobble on your feet but remain standing in place.

lines are being blurred. drugs are being inhaled and their intake is high. sin is in the air and chuuya is behind you. you are on a thin line and you loose or win is up to you. whether you fall or not is something only time will tell.

sin didn't just randomly appear, no, but it was excreted out by chuuya's brain and now the same sin of concupiscence was being felt by you too but the only difference is that chuuya has the confidence to act upon it and you don't.

"what? cat got your tongue all of a sudden?" chuuya mocked and oh, the words of mockery went straight to your cunt. "you used to talk a lot when we were kids, it was honestly so cute."

chuuya saw from his peripheral vision how his words resulted in you to bite your bottom lip to not release a breath which would come out a bit too shaky, he sucked in his inner cheek for he wanted you to react to his words and you weren't so he guesses he would need to push you a bit more.

chuuya lightly pushed the skateboard with his heel and you squealed. chuuya immediately wrapped his hands around you again but this time his hands were on your upper abdomen, just a bit from grabbing your boobs.

"easy there, doll." chuuya released a breathy laugh and you suck in air and your annoyance for how is it fair for you to be this hot and bothered by his teasing while he looks like he is having the time of his life?

"perhaps you aren't doing a good job at teaching me chu." you mumble only for the purpose to earn a reaction from him which you do but not in the way you wanted but you aren't one to complain for his cocky attitude as chuuya cocked his eyebrows in amusement at your words, is something no one could deny from finding attractive.

"i think so too, maybe i am being a bit too soft with you?" chuuya played along with your pathetic attempt as he finds areas of concern within himself, he helped you stand again and the sight of your figure shaking as you tried to stand steadily on the object is cute in his eyes.

"please hold me." your request is not innocent at all, or well, that's what chuuya thinks when your tone used is breathy and low but nevertheless, the cocaine in your blood does it work to strip away your troubles, chuuya's hands once again find their favorite spot ; your hips as he stands in a proximity so close that your heart busted with joy when you felt the outline of his chest on your back.

"what a greedy girl, aren't you a bit too demanding?" chuuya smirked and you could feel it in that cocky tone of his.

"you made me like this by giving into my every need." you whisper out as his voice is doing wonders on you, stimulating and making you shy but where rationality surrenders, arousal takes over.

this is why you placed your hand on top of his under the disguise of being 'scared' as you tilted your head back to rest it on his shoulder and looked up at him, whispering, "what should i do now?"

with a gulp, chuuya's faltered smirk returned as he rubbed his nose against your cheek, "the hardest thing when riding a skateboard -- for me -- was to stop. so let's teach you that first? hm?"

closing your eyes for the way he hums has you going crazy, you aren't sure if you want him to see your eyes exposing your true feelings for him but chuuya did, anyways, he knew it the second he had slinged his arm over your shoulder and watched you become the schoolgirl you once were as you shyly stood beside him.

chuuya is smart. and for a certain pair of siblings, he had always been the most observant and always on his heels if they needed help.

like a dance, chuuya pushed the skateboard gently with his heel while his hands remained on your hips and your's on top of his, now chuuya and you both knew this wasn't actually how one was supposed to ride a skateboard but it served as a good disguise to keep on feeling each other up.

"i don't want to do this anymore." you sigh, craning your neck to look at him with a pout on your lips, you temptress, you were just begging for chuuys to let go of his rationality and lean down to kiss you, weren't you?

"come on, don't give me that. you were looking at the skateboard so much and you used to always accompany us when we went skateboarding back then as well." chuuya tells as he takes a strand of your hair and twirls it on his index finger but bites off a smile when you shake your head.

"i don't really care much about skateboarding. i just liked looking at you riding it." you had confessed your childhood long secret of accompanying them with the purpose of letting your eyes drink in the sight of the then teenager who laughed cockily at your brother who gaped at him and another one of his tricks he performed on the skateboard, chuuya would laugh only louder when his eyes would trail towards you to see you looking at him the same way your brother would but the only difference would be that your stare would stir a feeling in him which would end with blush on his ear shells and cheeks.

now chuuya knew of your 'admiration' and 'fondness' for him. hell, he even knew of your feelings for him but what he did not know was how deeply and far back were they rooted into your heart. so he blinked.

you sighed as you saw his baffled expression and raised your head to stop resting it on his shoulder and if chuuya wasn't busy in repeating your words over and over again, he would've whined.

he froze, sure, but your thinking of the reason being awkwardness and utter surprise at your confession is not correct even in the slightest, he is frozen due to how the scene is playing out. chuuya knew of your feelings towards him as stated before and he had, ever since your brother broke the news of you coming to live with them to him, been imagining different ways of how the confession from both sides would go.

what he never thought was it happening during a moment of utter lust and attempts of breaking confinements, which, in this case happens to be their own conscience.

you run a hand through your hair, "well the cat is out of the bag." you shrug, disappointment is way too close to find a home inside your body. you smile helplessly as you look down at how you are standing steadily on top of the skateboard before muttering so only chuuya could hear though maybe it would've been better if he didn't, "i am helplessly in love with you, always were. i don't have intrest in skateboarding -- i just liked seeing you on it. i got offered to stay at the dorms near the university but i declined because i wanted to stay under the same roof as you . . . " you trail off, getting off the skateboard before turning around to face him.

your action is useless if you aren't actually going to look into his eyes and continue to stand with your head dropped low.

"i was excited. till i came here. chu . . ." you look up at him, eyes which he once dreamt of staring into his in classes he found boring, now stared at him but his dream didn't come true for your eyes didn't hold the spark he wanted to see in them, " . . what are you and my brother hiding? why are you so hesitant?"

you looked at the skateboard which served as a small beacon of the line you wanted to cross but couldn't.

you took a step forwards and tried to take a step past chuuya who snapped put of his frozen state, immediately clasping his hand around your wrist to stop you and pulled you back infront of him. he placed his arm on your shoulder as he leaned near you, smiling in defeat.

"the girl i desired is the sister of the man i consider my bestfriend, who stayed with me in my thick and thin moments. must i choose between love and loyalty? i am torn doll, oh so torn." he confessed too. not in the way he or you (in your dreams) could ever imagine.

so please, you begged yourself to not focus on how close his face is to your's and how if you tipped your head forwards, you could place your lips against his.

"you can't choose?" you asked as you stared up at eyes so filled with life that you could mock the oceans for not even their beauty could be compared to the pigment of the man's eyes in your opinion. "i kinda get it though. i knew this would never work. this is why i never wanted to confess but you made me." your smile gave it away that you are still stuck on the same rope.

"i made you confess?" chuuya grinned and clasped his hands behind your head, he leaned forwards even more to ruse his brain into being satisfied with him brushing his nose against your's though what his brain itched for was to have his hands on your ass or on your back or on any part of your body as long as he could feel your skin on his.

"mhm, you did." you continue to play with your teasing accusation as chuuya took a step back and as his arms were around you, you were forced to take a step forwards too to maintain the close proximity between you two.

there is a voice hammering in the back of chuuya's head which is telling him to stop before he does something which will give arousal a upper hand on him but when he looked at the smile playing on your lips, chuuya felt the urge to break free from his confinement.

"wow, this is what i get for trying to teach you how to stand on a skateboard? what a ungrateful girl." chuuya teased, his own grin making you gulp and he watched how you swallowed your saliva and how the lump flowed down your throat before his eyes rested on your breasts covered by the fabric of your shirt and how his hands shook as he tried to ignore the urge to pry your shirt off of you. he continued to walk back and make you walk alongside him.

"i didn't ask you to teach me, you did it yourself chu." you point out, licking your lips as you tried not to focus on his hands on you by staring at his face which he tilted to the side to let his eyes to trail even lower and oh, he smirked arrogantly and raised his eyes in amusement.

the confinements couldn't hold the man named chuuya nakahara who felt something snap in him when he stared at your legs clenching together and your hand twirling the end of your shirt as if the fabric is annoying you as much as he is.

"yet you followed my instructions like a good girl." chuuya raised his eyebrow in amusement and the excitement almost made his heart bust when he felt the under of his knee hitting the bed and chuuya fell on it and of course, you found yourself falling on top of him with your arms on either side of him to support yourself.

"i like being praised. especially if the praises are from you." what shame remains when everything else is being kept in the open? you do not fear the outcome for once chuuya had reciprocated with confessions of his own, your mind circulated and worshipped only one thought ; to lay it all bare infront of him and let time and luck decides what happens next.

the words you uttered sounded like mirth to chuuya but your body being pressed on his, thighs brushing against his inner thigh and the lower part of your stomach being right on top of his crotch told chuuya this situation is very much serious and not a product of his desires forging into a very real life daydream. chuuya raised his eyebrows and decided to take one step forwards which would decide the course of the night.

"now follow my new instructions doll." chuuya's hands landed on the ends of your shirt as he hooked his fingers on the fabric, his heart beated but not as much in excitement as it did in anticipation.

chuuya licked his lips as he felt them drying while waiting and analyzing the expression you wore and he wondered for the hidden meaning behind you simply blinking but perhaps there wasn't any meaning behind them and you were just as eager as him to proceed with this situation, chuuya came to know so when you lifted your body a bit to help him take off your shirt with ease.

looking at the surprise flashing through his pupils for its rather rare for the tease to be caught off guard, you knew you would not miss this opportunity,

"what? am i not following your instructions correctly?" your grin faltered when chuuya pulled the shirt over your head before using it to tie your hands together behind your back, the action was carried with such precise and swift movements that you didn't realize it until he had done it.

"you look so adorable when you are at a loss of words." chuuya sighed fondly, grinning at your choice of wearing a lacy baby pink bra and suddenly you felt hot.

if you were feeling hot before then you are burning right now under the scorching stare of chuuya whose eyes frantically looked over each inch of your skin and those covered mounds you were unexpectedly testing his patience with.

chuuya extended his hand towards one of your boobs and he rubbed his thumb over your nipple to watch it perk up under his finger.

maybe it's the thrill of finally living the scenario you imagine on many nights when your fingers are knuckle deep in your core and you are a moaning mess for the guy who you weren't supposed to crush on because he is your brother's best friend but you did, or maybe it's the foreign simulation of a real touch of another other then yourself on your inexperienced body but whatever it may be, the pool of your own slick on your underwear wasn't something you could ignore and especially not when chuuya moved his knee so that it could be right below your wet and clothed core.

"chuuy --"

"tell me to stop and i will but if you don't, i'll make sure no other man could satisfy you like i do." he muttered in absolute seriousness as if he meant every single touch and caress on the curves of your waist and you shook your head and for emphasis, you humped against his knee to let him feel the wetness he caused.

"don't stop, please chuuya. choose me for once -- for my body, doesn't matter. i know you won't betray my brother by dating me, i never expected you to, but please. just be mine tonigh --"

your words didn't get the freedom to be spilt out into the atmosphere as chuuya shuts you by tugging at the restraint on your hand to pull you down and kissing you, his hand came to find its place on the curve of your jaw which he carassed as if to soothe your nerves or to control himself from pouncing at you at the moment.

"shut the fuck up." he gritted as soon as the short kiss shared between you two were over but looking at your glossed lips and flushed face as you tried to grasp your breath stolen by him and his kiss and chuuya pulled your face down using the hold he had on your jaw.

your eyes immediately screwed shut at the feeling of his soft lips moving on your's before he tilted your head to acquire an angle which would make it easy for him to push his tongue into your mouth, at that your heart began beating fast again while your cells celebrated that its finally happening.

maybe this is why you began taking ragged breaths which lead chuuya to increase the passion he excreted in this make out session. his free hand went down and towards your shorts after which he teasingly pulled them down only to abandon them and watch it smack your skin, the hiss that left your lips gave chuuya the opportunity to push his tongue deeper into your mouth.

you wanted to caress his cheek, touch his abs and run your hand through his hair but due to the restraints on your hands, all you could do was whine in the kiss, chuuya pushed his knee up a bit to hit it against your wet core and you immediately lost any energy you had. this one touch from him had you going limp as your body leaned on his.

chuuya pulled back from the kiss to look at your eyes still closed with his own eyes glazed with arousal which broke through every confinement and restraints.

chuuya's both hands landed on either of your hips and he lifted you up before turning you both around so you would be the one lying on his bed and suddenly the way his smell infiltrated your nose had you gulping thickly. in excitement, in anticipation.

chuuya planted one hand beside your head as with the other, he pulled down his sweatpants before cursing under his breath. sweat dribbled down his temple and all the way from his cheek to his neck to his collarbone before disappearing beneath his shirt.

and when you raised your eyes again, you saw the man already staring at you as he smiled in what seemed like embarrassment.

but can a man like him even have something to be embarrassed about? oh, don't you know, chuuya? you make others embarrassed with just how ethereal and angel like you look.

he isn't the angel though.

the way his lips parted to let his tongue out to moisten his bottom lip made it clear so or else why would you release a shaky breath suppressing desire?

"give me a minute doll?" he muttered so lazily but just as energetically did his hands pinch your nipples again.

you nodded and chuuya raised to his feet to lean towards the nightstand as he opened the drawer and began to shuffle through the many objects placed in it.

"fuck, where . . . is it . . .?" you heard chuuya mutter under his breath and you raised your feet to trace it along his waist to tease him and rile him up.

"you keep condoms so casually chu?" your voice was purposely toned to sound pouty as chuuya spared you a glance over his shoulder and he grinned before looking back at the task in hand and a sigh of relief left him when he found the packet he was looking for.

"i do not fuck around like it's second nature for me doll. when you have a house which is the usual spot for any parties, you better keep condoms." vaguely he answered but the way he winked gave you the reassurance that you won't be tossed aside after being used even if that was what you originally were ready to accept if it meant he would give in to his and your urges.

"virgin?"is the only word you mutter as you watch the process of chuuya slowly pulling down and removing his sweatpants and boxers away from his body before he ripped the condom package off and he looks at you while not stopping with his actions.

chuuya tilted his head to the side with a smirk, "why don't you tell me that."

and as chuuya approached you again, he raised the ends of his shirt over his head before tossing it to the side and leaning over you again, "tell me if i am a virgin or not doll," he cooed, alright, but his words and their loving tone was a very big contrast to the way his hands greedily raised one of your legs up to pull your shorts and underwear down in one go.

you sinked into the mattress even more as chuuya parted your legs apart, hissing at the sight of your wet core which glistened as the dim lights of his room fell on them.

chuuya raised his hand to trace over your folds and relished at how his finger got coated with your wetness, chuuya looked up as your thigh had twitched at this action of his.

"first time?" he asked and when you nodded a bit awkwardly, chuuya had this sudden urge to go on his knees and kiss his way up your inner thigh towards your cunt before ravishing it -- but he would get another day to do it. right now, if his angry dick doesn't enter you, he will go insane.

so he rather leans down to plant a kiss on the tip of your nose before making his way down and at the same time he taps on your stomach to let you know to lift yourself for him which you do, arching your back so chuuya could put his hand on your back before his hand trailed upwards to unclasp your bra.

chuuya leaned back and pulled you along by pulling on your tied hands, he sat on the bed and pulled you on his lap a bit harshly before immediately sucking on your nipple while his one hand remained to hold your hands over your head and the other carassed your hip.

the latter hand then began to travel downwards and you would've loved to focus on his touch if it wasn't for the way he nibbled on your nipple lightly before beginning to suck on it. his hand began to rub your clit teasingly with nothing but the tip of his fingernail -- all while he ignored his hard dick throbbing for attention.

"fuck, what a good girl." chuuya hissed under his breath as if the man could not physically stop himself from admiring you and if one thinks so, then let's also know the fact that mentally, chuuya couldn't even look away for even a fraction of a second.

to control himself is like controlling a starving beast with a fawn left unsupervised and unattended infront of him and the only thing restricting the beast was the pathetic chain on it's collar.

you whine, raise your eyes to look into chuuya's before you lean near him to capture his lips in a kiss which soon is being led by him.

the chain snaps and the beast pounced on the fawn.

chuuya falls down on the bed as his hands reach to grope your ass, your hands are still behind your back as you try to match his pace in the messy kiss and it is when you separated to take a breath that chuuya mumbled,

"ride me, doll? go at your pace, i just want your first time to feel good since it's with me --" the smirk and the tone made it clear how cocky and proud he is of himself. " -- come on, don't you want to feel good and make me feel good too? what are you hesitating for dear? i'll be here to guide you." he coos. the way how confidence sprouts from each pore of his body is something only he could pull off for he has the skills to back up every claim yet with a man like him, one would clearly not imagine him to be gentle.

he isn't but that's something you came to know only after you had gulped nervously before sinking down on his dick slowly as he advised you to take him inch by inch. the foreign intrusion burned and with each inch of him sinking into you, you could feel your walls stretching and it felt as if they were almost being ripped apart.

chuuya isn't a man of gentleness in bed usually but seeing you bite your lip as you screwed your eyes shut thinking it would help you tolerate the pain, chuuya wanted to be nothing but be tender with you who is acting so docile. but chuuya can't help but snicker, he can't help but be mean and with the way your walls are suffocating his cock, he is sure you like this behavior a bit too much as well.

his hands are on your hips to be the only source of stability for your hands are behind your back, tied and even if chuuya knew you needed time to get used to the foreign feeling of his dick inside you, he couldn't stop from pulling his hand away from your hip and smacking it lightly to watch you yelp in surprise.

"don't be mean chu." you stutter, eyes opening to glare lightly at him without holding any negative emotions, you could feel the pain fading away.

"just because you are sitting on my dick and on top of me doesn't mean you are in charge." chuuya smirked and when your glare didn't falter and you continued doing so, chuuya snickered before humming lazily.

"fine, if you think you are such a big girl, go on and fuck yourself on my cock." he emphasized his words by thrusting upwards into you and the new, first time feeling along with the way it was done so suddenly had you moaning in pleasure, body leaning to fall forwards on chuuya's chest.

chuuya peeked down at you to make sure his thrust didn't hurt you but when he saw you staring at him with half lidded eyes, he couldn't help but laugh mockingly, bringing his hand to pinch your cheek.

"not glaring anymore, are we? was this it? you needed to be fucked to be put in your place?" chuuya patted your cheek and smirked, "ride me."

it wasn't a suggestion or a loving and thoughtful gesture of him like it was before but a demand which left no room for argument, not that you would be trying to do so as you wanted to feel more of him, the warm dick between your walls and the way his thrust made you almost close your eyes felt nice, felt addicting and you grew greedy to want more.

chuuya grabs your hips again to pull you back in a sitting position on his dick and waited before you finally began to move up and down his dick. sure, the rhythm was off beat and the movements you made were slow and not precise but it didn't matter for the euphoria settling in him is something he felt before only once maybe -- the first time he had shifted to the area you lived in and befriended you, at that time he felt satisfied with himself to know he isn't going to be a sore thumb or an outcast, that he has a cute girl and her brother his age to keep him company and help him get familiar with the area. but the satisfaction now is not of the same category except the fact that both these feelings were stimulated when you were near him.

right now, the way your walls are squeezing his dick and suffocating it makes up for your sloppy movements, the epiphany of being this intimate with the girl who he once only touched in his dreams is making this way more satisfying then any of the other nights he had with anyone else.

you moaning his name is what snapped him out of his daze, he looked down at you to smile to see that you found the pace which you are the most comfortable in and it's way better then what you were doing in the beginning.

a moan left your lips and got tangled with the groan that chuuya released as he continued to look up at you, cheeks blushing, eyes wide and taking in every inch of your tits jiggling and the way he had to tighten his grip on your hips to stabilize you on him.

as you went up and down on him, your slick coated his length more and more made it easier to move but the burn on your thighs after some time couldn't be ignored, you weren't used to this and chuuya decided to take matters into his hands when he felt your pace slowing down.

"can't even trust you to fuck yourself. guess i have to teach you how to ride a dick huh, oh what a cutie." chuuya cooed as he found himself filled to the brim with adoration but when he felt it overflowing, the adoration transformed into lust.

you closed your eyes as chuuya grabbed you by your curves, lifting you up a bit as he adjusted himself beneath you to be in a position where he could look at you without having to lift his head much (he had placed two pillows beneath his head to do so) and began to thrust upwards into you after immediately making you take all of him.

you moaned out loud as you digged your nails into your palms as chuuya's pace seemed to increase with each passing second and you felt as if there is not even as much as a second for you to breath.

your lower abdomen is where the pleasure started before it surged through your entire body, chuuya's hands on your waist were sure to leave bruises but it didn't matter at the moment when he kept on trying to grope the flesh his greedy fingers could find.

chuuya had you sitting on him with his knees behind to support you from falling, the wetness only seemed to make the sound of his balls slapping against your asscheeks reverberate in the room. chuua grabbed your thigh before parting your leg a bit so he could hit more precisely.

you looked at chuuya to see him glaring down at your jiggling tits with narrowed eyes as he tried to find something -- you don't know what but he looked focused on whatever he is trying to do. you looked over your shoulder at your tied up hands and when you looked back at chuuya again, he flicked your clit which made you moan loudly.

chuuya placed his hand on your back, just barely above your ass as he pushed you forward so you could be laying on him.

chuuya looked down to see your tits squeezed against his chest and he gathered a glob of saliva before spitting it on your chest, a breathless moan left his mouth when he saw his saliva trail down the valley of your breasts. he pressed his hands on your asscheeks to push you against him and raised one of his hands to grab the back of your thigh to push your leg apart and as he thrusted after doing so, you felt his tip graze the spongy wall that had you crying out in pleasure.

the thrust which follows the first one had more impact as it made sure to hit against your spot, making you curl your toes and arch your back. your tits pressed against his chest more in the process of doing so and so did your walls which clenched his dick, chuuya moaned closing his eyes and thrusting again.

you are the one having your first time with him yet why does he feel as if it's the opposite? he never felt like so.

chuuya slowly opened his eyes and what greeted his sight is a picture he will keep alive in his head till the next time he gets to have his hands on you -- your eyes closed as you laid on his chest, lips parted and he could see you drooling a bit and oh, chuuya felt his breath getting stuck in his throat.

he raised his hand to caress your cheek before pinching it and pulling you towards him using it, kissing the tip of your nose. this gesture made you clench around him and chuuya's eyes rolled to the back of his head.

he was pounding into you roughly, mercilessly and being animalistic, he used your shirt tied on your wrists to control you, pushing and pulling you to find all the different angles that'll have you milking his cock.

as he pulled you back to sit on him with the help of your shirt, you leaned a bit so your clit could be pressing against his pubis, your head tilted back and oh, chuuya widened his eyes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he only increased his pace to feel his cock struggle with the way your walls are clenching so hard around it, your body shakes and even with chuuya's hands around your waist, he can't help but grin at your unstable state.

"chuuya, chuuya, let me touch you -- ah, chuuya!" you cry out his name desperately as his abuse to your cunt continued before you finally released a high pitched moan while experiencing your very first orgasm due to something which aren't your fingers but your fingers don't feel so good and if it weren't chuuya, you are sure this orgasm wouldn't feel so good as well.

you breath heavily before feeling your breath hitching, eyes opening wide when chuuya who had slowed down his pace while you were coming off your high, increases it suddenly again, his balls tightening and so was his grip on your waist, he is close too, your cum is definitely being a additional yet very much appreciated lube.

so this is maybe why he didn't pick up his ringing phone from the nightstand as he pounded into you, moaning and running a hand through your hair as he whispered praises to you.

"y-your pho --" you weren't able to complete your sentence when chuuya pushed you back to sit on him using the restraint on your wrist, his other hand raised to harshly squeeze your tit between his fingers.

"who cares? whoever is calling can wait, fuck, doll." chuuya hissed as ropes of white shooted out of his cock and creamed your walls, his thrusts turned sloppy but didn't stop.

and when they did, chuuya raised himself on his elbows to check who called him but he stopped midway, his hand hovered just above his phone when you grinded against him shakily, panting and body trembling.

"chuuya." your half lidded eyes stared at him and this was all chuuya needed before he is abandoning his phone to flip you on the bed, getting on top of you.

"spread your legs wide doll, let me see my pussy."

━━━━━━━ part two.

[ghostykapi]

sugar ‘n spice, everything nice, turn on the lights

kim dahyun & idol!fem!reader // sapphics being sapphics + spicy so scram while you can

"hi"

she’s the goofy one, the one with many tricks up her sleeve, the one who can spot the camera and make it fall in love with her

“hello my darling”

you’re the serious one, the one who’s always the looming presence behind her, the one who’s eyes can burn through a person’s soul if you wanted to

despite all that, there you both are, the “goofy” one sitting down on the couch reading through a novel and the “serious” one bothering the former by doing all kinds of possible distractions, giving up midway

“when will you give your girlfriend attention” you whine, almost distracting dahyun, who has dealt with your ass since you’ve both debuted “it’s been 4 hours!”

“just a few more pages my love” dahyun’s eyes don’t even leave the book, leaving you grow more desperate than ever “almost done”

you can’t even argue, not when her left hand is on your thigh, the light firm squeeze reminding you how much she can do if you don’t behave

“fineeee” you can’t even argue, not when she looks adorable while wearing her glasses. you’ve already have taken more pictures than you should and maybe a video or two of you poking her check while reading

so you wait, you wait for what feels like an eternity, when in reality it only took 5 minutes. afterall you have been waiting, not that patiently, on dahyun's lap for 2 out of the 4 hours she's been reading

it's when she closes the book and sets it down do you pounce, but not in a sexy let's go fuck! right now way. rather evertime she finishes reading for the day, she has to deal with you and your energy with activities that she knows you already planned the moment a day like this comes by

"darling darling darling!!" like a golden retriever, you seemingly become hyper when giving her affection in the comfort of your own home. the attack of kisses she receives makes her squeal, hands finding her way to your waist to make you slow down

"so much energy" she teases, but she makes you stay still so she can kiss you properly. the gentleness calming you down just a little bit “what do you want to do today?”

you’re beaming smile at the question makes her think that you might want to do a physical activity today, maybe go back to that pottery class or go to that favorite niche shopping district of yours.

“nothing!” is what you say, and it takes her by a bit of surprise “just want to cuddle”

“nothing?” she repeats, tilting her head to the side, her hands playing with your shirt “don’t you want to go out? didn’t you send me 10 other tiktoks of where we should go?”

“i did” you confirm, brushing the stray hair out of her face, and despite your height difference, you still look so ‘tiny’ on her lap like this “just wanted to stay in today, cuddling with you”

kissing her again, you take this one slow, savoring the way you melt further into her and the way she’s smiling, all giggly with her hands under your shirt, finding the skin of your lower back and rubbing circles

“i know we can go out” you reason with dahyun, kissing her in between every few words said “but i just wanted to have your full attention and to kiss you like this any time i like”

dahyun can feel these words make her heart into mush, her defense crumbling down as you keep on kissing her. her so call attempt to get you to calm down now floating away

of course, anything gentle can change to into something different if someone changes their movement, even in the slightest.

into something a bit heavier.

into desire.

need.

“hi” dahyun looks up at you, her blush reaching down her neck, while whatever lipgloss you’ve had that afternoon already smeared against her lips

“hi” you haven’t even begun, but with the desire swirling in her eyes you know what you both just need

so it barely takes a few minutes for you to drag her to your shared bedroom and for you to absolutely pin her down against the mattress and kiss her again.

“my girl” she’s out of breath but she doesn’t even stop you from taking her breath away with kisses “my pretty girl”

even if dahyun is pinned down on your shared bed by you, it’s her who has control. it is her impatient hands that are taking off your shirt, and her mouth find it’s way to your neck, absolutely marking it as bad as she can do

you can barely even stop her, your desires completely taking over you. your cravings haven’t been met for so long, you couldn’t let this opportunity slip away from you

“darling” before you let her take full control, you manage to pull her away, although the line of spit from her mouth to your neck making you want to pull her back in “wanna feel you”

dahyun is nothing but a doting girlfriend, but when you push her down to your thigh, she lets you take control just for a little bit. she lets you take off her clothes, her eyes admiring the way neck is now stained with marks

she lets her ego go up higher than it should be, all because you look too good marked up by her. it just sounds so tempting, makeup artist be damned, she wants to see the whole world lose it when they see the way you would display her love bites

“eyes up here” you snap her out of it by the time you manage to get rid of both your clothes, your entire body now ingrained in her mind, imagining which spots can she put more marks made by her mouth

“mhm” she’s distracted, which is perfect for you. so you gently guide her to your thigh once more and let her slowly grind on you. her wetness evident as she easily glides on your skin, her breath coming in short pants

“you ok there darling?” you observe her, as she finally takes over and grinds unto your thigh by herself. her eyes hazy with love and lust, hands gripping your shoulders, mouth watering just by looking at you admiring her, smirking at how much you’ve got each other so desperate

dahyun snaps when you giggle, bring one of her fingers to your mouth, give her a show by sucking on it all while flexing your thigh

she lets out a sound, somewhere between a growl and a moan, while she pulls her fingers away but pulls you close to kiss you. it’s driving her crazy feeling your tits right against hers and your whimpers fueling her up

“i love you” dahyun’s words match with her eyes, love pouring over as you hold her close, and her still grinding on your thigh “oh gosh i love you so much baby”

she doesn’t let you answer as she quickly kisses you again, your whimpering mingling in with her moans

“my woman” you manage to let out, your quickly growing desperation finally matching with her’s “my woman, mine. mine mine mine mine mine”

“yours” she already sounds breathless, her hands gripping your shoulders too tight you swear you’re going to end up with it red “i’m all yours baby–hngg ugh–‘m all yours!–hngg!–only yours”

“i can feel you” you’re own wetness already dripping down your legs, and you can’t even fathom waiting for another minute to attend to it. you need to feel dahyun cum, you need to feel her shake and explode before she ruins you into nothing but tears, broken moans and a sore body

“cum for me darling”

she does, with her eyes rolling back and her body shaking at bit. your name slipping out her lips like a prayer and you answer, yours arms wrapping around her body as she tips her head up for a kiss

you both slowly make out to help her come down from that high, her energy regaining with each whimper you make. her ambition to make you feel good coming in hot

“my turn” by the shift of her tone to a low and seductive one, she end up sounding so dominant, that it sends your brain into rethinking if this was the same dahyun who goofs off with you during practice

and you can barely keep up, that by the time you realize what is happening, she’s already lubed up your favorite strap and slowly pushing into you alf while your tits being sucked and pulled on

“look at you” she taunts, her strap already fully inside you by the time she pulls away “you look so gorgeous like this”

you let out a embarrassingly loud moan at how deep she is inside of you, her slowly pumping in and out with the occasional deeper hard thrust that sends your body twitching

“pretty woman” she lets her hips snap, your choked up moans only sending her brain to think of fucking you more “no one fucks you like this but me”

you moan at that, her tone sending you into a bit deeper into her spell. she barely talks like that, but when she does, it works too well on you

“yeah no one does” your voice is strained, mind already on the way to being broken “no one fucks me–hngg ah!–like you do!”

“yeah?” you’re feeding on her ego, her thrusts getting faster and harder, each one driving a moan or a whimper out from you “you’re all ruined by me, all fucked out by me. no one can make you feel like this but me sweetheart.”

she does not stop there

“aww getting desperate are we? here let me help with making you go dumb”

“keep saying my name just like that sweet girl and i’ll keep giving you want you need”

“who can fuck you like this huh? it’s only me right?”

you can barely respond to her, even when you can feel your thighs already shaking by the impending high that’s so close already

“that’s my girl” she’s sure that you’re so close, just a bit over the edge, needing that one final push to reach that peak. so she slides her fingers towards your clit, playing with the bundle of nerves with tight small circles

"cum" dahyun commands before you reach your peak. your vision that’s already so hazy gaining white spots, your hips snapping against the base of her strap, your screams that makes your neighbors wonder if you’re alright

it takes a few minutes for you to finally calm down, with the help of dahyun’s kisses and words of praise. she holds you close to her, skin to skin, as she calms you down from that intense high

"you know i'm like" you breathe out "completely obsessed with you right?"

she only giggles before kissing you, intent to spoil you all over again

[findingnemosworld]

𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐝

• 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬. ( 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲'𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 )

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐥 𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬.

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 + 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐩*𝐫𝐧.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐲𝐲𝐲𝐲

His lips trail sweet; sensual kisses across the curvature of her spine drawing out a soft sigh from her trembling lips, lust coursed through her veins , enveloping her like a warm blanket on an icy winter morning, his lips trailed back up to tug on her ear before whispering with a deep tone, " I've missed you so fucking much love "

If only she could believe him, it seemed as if lying was second nature when it came to him — one minute he'd shower her with unconditional love, the next she finds herself left there with merely images clouding her mind. " If you miss me that much you wouldn't have been busy flirting with that blonde intern working in the training center last week when I came to visit "

He chuckles at her remark, recounting what had transpired a week ago, in his defense — it wasn't anything serious yet she had to make such a big deal out of it, " Oh come on love, it wasn't serious "

" It wasn't serious " She reiterated incredulously, tilting her head to face him as he continued peppering kisses across her soft skin. " You introduced me as your girl and then no more than three hours later, you had your tongue down her throat "

He turns her over to lay on her back as he caged her between his arms, " I don't know what the problem is, we agreed that this wasn't serious "

She sits up with a hardened expression across her face, " We agreed that it wasn't serious but we didn't agree on you treating me like I was your girlfriend but then turn around and claim I'm just a friend whenever you see fit "

He was taken back by her reaction, " Where's all this coming from? " he asks, in pure surprise.

" It's been pent up for ages, I'm tired Trent, I'm tired of dancing in circles — you only tell me you want me when it's fitting for you, when the girl you're with isn't good enough and then I'm stuck with your constant lies for a future that isn't even happening, so I'm done pretending there is hope " She proceeds to leave the bed in search of her clothes whilst he sits there completely shocked by her outburst.

_

It had been three months since they'd last seen one another — he tried to shift his focus more on football while she made more effort to thrive as a content creator/model which hadn’t been facile yet it seemed to work as in no time, she’d been receiving more offers to set her foot into professional modeling which ultimately lead to being invited to the D&G show during the PFW.

The exact same show he just so happened to be invited in.

Cameras flashed as they posed in different directions — all the while she attempted to ignore his presence, he seemed too enthralled by her presence to even look away, so much so – that by the time the show finished; it was time for the after party, he couldn’t resist the thrill of approaching her.

" You look incredible! " He exclaimed the moment he stood next to her at the bar area.

" I know " She retorts with a playful tone.

He chuckles then takes a sip of his drink before stating, " You know I missed you these past few months "

She chuckled softly, " Always a charmer with those lies, they never failed to leave a bad taste in my mouth "

" I’m not lying love " He states with a soft smile.

" Trent I know you, lying is like second nature to you — " She said, taking small sips of her drink before adding with a soft tone. " And for some odd reason I keep falling for it because a part of me continues to live with the hope that you’ll acknowledge the bond that we have is true "

His heart shatters into a million pieces, he whispers hoarsely. " I’m .. " he swallowed the lump in his throat, " I’m sorry … "

" It doesn’t matter … " She murmurs, " We moved on "

A brief wave of silence passed between them before he stated with a soft tone, " I didn’t … "

Her head shot up to meet his tender gaze and for a moment, she wonders if there is a hint of truth behind him; yet, as soon as the match flickers inside of her mind, the darkness clouds above, diminishing any hope of them becoming anymore than a pair of lost souls that cannot seem to crawl past the muddy waters that is their unresolved issues.

" I want to believe it … I want to believe that you love me, but the fact is … you only ever think of me when the girls you’re with aren’t up to your standards so I’m sorry Trent but I can’t do it anymore, I can’t keep running in circles " She said.

He watched with a torn expression as she walked away from him — his heart shattering even further at the sight before him, she embraced someone else, she was here with another man, he should have known that nothing ever lasts forever.

He was the one that shattered her entirely.

He was the one who’d woven vague promises only to shatter them with the grip of his hand.

He was the one that gave her the world then swiftly took it away.

And he will be the one to live with the ache for all eternity, the ache of losing her forever.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 10

Goddess In Distress | Loki x Reader

With the help of the Avenger's intel Loki is able to find you, but is rescuing you too easy? And why do your captors wear such a familiar sigil?

Warnings: 18+, violence, suggestion of drugging/medicating the reader, death (no main character deaths), bamf Loki taking no prisoners.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

It felt like an eternity had passed before the jet finally touched down on the rugged coast line, below the silent engines the waves crashed into the cliff face sending fine sprays of salt water up into the sky, dancing on the slick rocks and making rainbows dance even in the grey light.

“This is it,” Tony lifted his hand to flick a few switches above his head, the jet slowing to a dull hum as the wheels met the soft grass and Loki jumped from his seat to look out through the cockpit window, hoping to see some glimpse of you, a suggestion that you were still okay. 

He knew it though, deep in his soul something thrummed, a power that was not his own, it called to him, seeking his support, seeking his own sedir to lean upon. But he couldn’t see you. 

Set back from the edge of the cliff face, all he could see was a ruined tower, a majestic swirl of pale white stone weathered with age and veins of lichen. Across the remaining intact walls were a series of high narrow windows, anything larger than an arrow slit was also adorned with rusted metal bars spoiling the Romantic aspect with the knowledge that this was no defensive position, this was a prison. 

Whoever was behind this had either little imagination of they were truly ancient, for it was clear the castle hadn’t even been inhabited in centuries, although Friday told them it had once been a stronghold protecting the coast Loki was concerned that a stiff breeze might finish it off, judging by the tumble of rocks at its base. 

“Where is she?” Thor looked at Loki, expectant. “What is the cunning plan, brother?” Thor’s hand clapped Loki on the shoulder. Loki was taken aback, it was a rare day that Thor would defer to him. “We have a castle to storm, but it’s your Princess we’re saving.” Thor gave Loki’s shoulder a squeeze, his eyes glinting with the anticipation of battle.

Loki reached his hand out and gripped Thor’s forearm in thanks, a silent conversation between the brothers. The moment was spoiled only by the sound of Tony’s suit whirring to life behind them and his sharp cough. 

Loki rolled his eyes, addressing Thor and ignoring the Avenger and the crass clanking of his outfit. 

Instead he allowed that ancient feeling to once more well inside of him, to guide his thoughts, it washed over him, picking him up like a summer wave and pointed him towards you. The tower, how cliche. Thor followed his gaze and grinned, he had no doubt that Loki would set you free, but how amusing that you were truly locked in the tower. He wondered what kind of dragon would be guarding you. 

“She’s high,” Loki stated, he could feel the brine in the breeze that chafed your cheeks, so there was a window at least. “Probably the tower, but perhaps the battlements.” 

Loki allowed his magic to eddie around him as he spoke manifesting his Asgardian leathers in one golden swirl. The weight of his broad sword a sudden and reassuring presence.

  “She’s trying to get her thoughts through.” He squinted against the pain piercing his skull, each throb of your telegraphed magic like the beat of a heart, making light dance in front of his eyes. He pushed back, sending hope and calm down whatever bond your magic had formed, and the throbbing dulled. 

“Brother?” Thor looked concerned and Loki realised he’d been pressing his hands into the sockets of his eyes to try and alleviate the pain. 

“I’m fine, it’s fine,” Loki brushed a hand through his hair and surveyed the castle again. “We should circle the walls, find a high room, we have the element of surprise, but we don’t know how many guards we might be facing. 

“Three,” Tony said, tapping the faceplate on his suit. “Two  in the main courtyard and one up there.”

Tony pointed at one of two remaining towers that flanked the corners of the otherwise ruined castle. Like its counterpart, it was roofed with grey slate and wooden batons. Trying to send that same hum of calm towards you, Loki focussed his thoughts. You were praying again, chanting his name quietly and like a siren you called to him, he took a few slow mesmerised steps forwards before Thor slapped a hand on his chest. 

“That doesn’t seem a lot?” Thor looked confused, “it looks like a trap.” Loki gave Thor an incredulous look. Concerned as he was, Thor was still grinning, positively giddy at the thought of a fight.

“She’s definitely in there, she’s alive, she isn’t hurt, but her vitals suggest she’s been starved and there’s something in her system. A sedative maybe,” Tony kept reading from Friday’s scans. “And it really is just the three of them.”

“So she doesn’t have her magic?” Thor looked between Loki and Tony, “but Loki, you could feel her?” 

Loki rubbed his temples again, the headache was back. The pressure of you trying to reach him pressing down like a lead weight.

 “She’s trying, she’s fighting it. If they’ve managed to control her magic, stop her accessing it somehow, it doesn’t mean it isn’t still there. It’s searching for her, I can feel it pulling at me. She is strong, but she is unarmed against three suspected Asgardians. One of them has some sort of magic, that must be how they left Norway. The other two are at the very least cruel, if the machine’s statistics are to be trusted.” Loki waved his hand at Tony’s suit and earned himself a raised eyebrow. “We must be quick and fast, we can not risk them moving her again.” 

 We must act with the element of surprise. Quick, fast.” Loki’s twin daggers flashed in his hands and he gave them a theatrical twirl before placing them in their scabbards. “I will find her.” 

Tony and Thor took guard positions, the God paced the outside of the walls while Iron Man hovered around the empty battlements. 

Tony had wanted to blast in and out but Thor stopped him, hand on his chest “let him do this. Let him be the hero for her” and Tony, to his own surprise, softened. Maybe he was getting romantic in his old age, maybe he couldn’t be bothered with arguing.

“Fine. 10 minutes then I blow a hole in the wall and get this over with.” 

“Stark you cannot blow a hole in the wall, if these are Asgardian men…” Thor’s protests faded in Loki’s ears as he took his opportunity to sneak away, swift and sure across the  grass he made his way to the base of the tower and peered around into the open courtyard behind it. 

There was a single guard seated by the wooden door at the base of the tower, slumped forward in his seat, his arms folded. 

Loki frowned, it was almost insulting, the man was asleep. With another look behind him to make sure that Thor and Stark were still occupied with their squabble Loki crept closer, running his hand over the guards forehead to try and encourage a deeper sleep, but he felt nothing. Instead only an odd, empty sensation was returned, but the guard slept on. 

Ignoring his suspicions, Loki picked his way across the courtyard, the nagging sense that this was all too good to be true nipping at his heels. 

The door creaked open, its heavy hinges straining on the hard, frozen ground beneath. The stones that should have paved the interior were worn and had been taken over by writhing tendrils of ivy and moss making his steps softer but the tread slippery. 

A heavy footfall told Loki there was another guard above, so he paused, listening to the rhythm of their boots descending the stairs and biding his time. With a flick of his wrist he sent out a bolt of magic, hoping to disable the guard and merely saunter past him but there was no flicker of gold or hum sedir in the air. 

The steps echoed closer. 

Loki shuffled on his feet, fading back into the shadows with his stealth and experience alone, waiting for the guard to pass before, slowly, carefully, he pounced. 

He held his sword aloft and, with a swift swing of his arm Loki brought the pommel down onto the back of the guard’s head. He crumpled instantly, and Loki lowered him to the ground as quietly as possible, regretting the promises he’d made during the flight. 

Loki had promised to play by the Avenger’s rules, no unnecessary casualties, no avoidable deaths, but he’d seen them drop buildings, even whole cities, what was one guard. Especially one who had given his ásynja such terrible, awful pain, swirling nightmares and torturous days. 

There was no time for regret, he could feel your magic tugging at his chest. 

Loki didn’t look back at the blood soaking into the dirt, only up into the dim grey light of the tower trying not to think about the sigil he wore. The Vanir. 

It was another day in the tower, another day waiting for torture and another opportunity for you to irritate your capture. You had begun spending your days recounting your favourite TV shows which had the dual purpose of being entertaining and distracting, making the long day just a little shorter, as well as annoying whoever was placed as guards. 

Through the metal bars of the window the weak afternoon light cast a shine on the ridiculous material of your outfit, shiny and satin today. 

“And then Nick pulls her back by her sleeve and kisses her. Don’t you think that’s romantic?”

“No,” the man flicked his knife and let it land, point down, in the table again before yanking it back out with a creak of splintered wood.

“Really? Well. It is in the show. But her boyfriend, sort of boyfriend, is still there. So it’s awkward, you know?” You sat back down on the bed, the skirts of your dress parachuting around you. 

“No I don’t know,” flick, thunk, creak, repeat, the knife twirled in the air. 

This one never manifested the vision of Loki, he used only the knife to intimidate you with. 

“Maybe you’ve never had a romantic kiss. A good kiss, is that it?”  You taunted, staring at the ceiling and conjuring memories of Loki’s lips on yours, insistent but soft, coaxing them apart until he slid his tongue against yours -

“I’m finished with this conversation now. Shut up.” The knife made its final exit from the table and lay flat on the guard’s lap, his hand curled around the handle. 

“Okay what about Jake and Amy, have you seen Brooklyn 99, when he proposes and…”

“I said shut up,” the knife flew across the room, the point embedded into the wood of your headboard, mere centimetres from your cheek. 

You took a breath, slow and steady and collected yourself. You wouldn’t cry, you wouldn’t be upset. 

“Unnecessary. Arsehole. I’m bored, I’m trying to entertain us.” You snapped, angling your hand up to pull the knife out, hoping to get a good grip before he realised that he’d handed you a weapon. 

“How about I just shut you up,” he stood out of the chair and took two long strides across the room.

You flinched, pressing your back further into the headboard, your heart hammering and fear brimming. So far he’d only threatened you with the knife, your torture had been purely psychological. You assumed because whoever was keeping you wanted you alive and well eventually, but now you weren’t so sure. 

“Nothing to say now?” He snarled, yanking the knife out, his knuckles brushing your cheek. You flinched again, turning your head away and closing your eyes, expecting a blow.

But it didn’t arrive. Your breathing was loud in the room, your chest heaving. 

Then you opened your eyes slowly and met Loki’s stormy gaze as he towered in the small doorway. He put his finger to his lips and winked, the picture of calm and control to anyone else, but you could see the tick of his jaw as he surveyed your room.

“It’s time someone taught you a lesson, Estrid.” The guard growled, “you’re supposed to be behaving, if you and that conniving mother of yours just followed the plan then we wouldn’t have to be here. This is your fault.”

Your mother? What did your mother have to do with this? Surely he was the one keeping you here, no one else. Your mother had wanted to keep you safe, surely she wouldn't have been involved with anyone this cruel?

You didn’t have time to question the man’s words further. Loki strode into the room, instinctively putting his hands, palm out, on either side of his body expecting his short swords to appear. Nothing. 

Torn between keeping your eyes on your captor and trying to make a run for Loki, you squirmed on the bed. The guard grabbed at your ankle, yanking roughly until you cried out, and dragged you to the end of the bed where your legs dangled from the tuft of your skirts. 

Loki swallowed down his panic again, he’d been relying on his magic to get you both out of the tower easily and safely. But there was something holding it back, stopping him from accessing his weapons, keeping his sedir at bay. His eyes roved the room, searching for whatever poison they were using on you, perhaps he’d touched something when he’d crossed the courtyard, the plants maybe, his mother had been able to do the most incredible things with plants. 

But then his eyes lit upon a series of runes etched into the wall. They were faint now, worn down with age, but clear enough. There would be no magic here. That’s why the guards were so confident, that was fine by him, if he couldn't use his magic he'd just have to get his hands dirty instead.

“Get a move on,” Tony crackled in Loki’s earpiece. 

The god watched as the kidnapper leant down to whisper in your ear and Loki reached, silently, into his boot and pulled out the dagger he had hidden there, clenching his teeth. He’d regret threatening his Asynja.

Before the man could act any further, Loki’s  arm was around his throat, the other around his middle pinning his arms to his sides. The golden dagger between his fingers pressed into the guard's neck, bobbing imperceptibly along with his quickening pulse.

“You’re lucky you’re in front of a lady or I’d paint the walls with your blood for your insolence alone.” His voice was like lava, all the anger of the last week bubbling over, fierce and red hot, stalling anything in its path and holding the guard still with fear. Loki’s gaze moved to yours, slowly, checking for injuries before settling on your face, his eyes softened and those plush pink lips you’d been dreaming about parted. “My darling,” he cooed, “what would you have me do with him?” 

The way his tone changed was frightening and you felt your heart race at the sound of it. The Princely command dropped to his more familiar lover's call, to the voice he used just for you, a shiver ran up your spine, goosebumps erupting on your skin. It should have been horrifying, to see your lover transformed like this, but you couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through you at the sight of his wrath. 

You lounged back on the bed, allowing the chiffon and silk to surround you, every bit the Princess contemplating her next command, surveying the men waiting before her, friend and foe. 

“Don’t hold back on my account.” You smiled, looking at your guard one last time before allowing your eyes to meet Loki’s, focusing on the blue grey swirl around his pupil while a speck of blood appeared beneath the sharp tip of his dagger. 

“Are you sure, my darling?” Loki knew what it was to kill, to watch death. It was a hard thing to come back from, he was already concerned about you being trapped away for weeks, he didn’t dare think of the damage this could do to you wellbeing. 

Ignoring the man writhing in Loki’s grasp, you continued to get lost in his eyes, the nightmares and hunger that had consumed you fading away at the sight of him, the bruises on your legs and arms no longer sore, just a passing feeling, as long as he carried on looking at you like that, like he would burn the world and hand you the ashes on a silver plate if you wished it. 

“I’m sure.”

You tried to trick yourself into thinking that your smile was because you were free, and not because Loki had kept his eyes locked on yours the entire time. 

In the blink of an eye, Loki shifted his dagger to the other hand, sliding it in and out of the guard’s back without a blink. Loki pushed him away, ignoring the heavy thud of his body when it hit the hard floor.

Heat pooled in your belly, your eyes following Loki’s hand while he wiped the blood from his dagger on the guard’s cloak before sheathing it back into his boot. 

“Princess,” his voice was low, some might even say nervous, but he never took his eyes from you, afraid to even blink lest someone steal you away again. He dipped slowly, bowing formally and taking your hand.

“My Prince,” you curtseyed, squeezing his hand and a flash of a memory returned to you both, of Asgard, of so many dances, so many formal introductions.  

“Your Prince, is it?” Loki allowed the spell of formality to break, his smile wide as he scooped an arm around your waist, moulding your bodies together. 

“Always.” you whispered in return. And then you were kissing, his taste so familiar and lips so comforting, you allowed yourself to fall into his embrace, leaving all of the loneliness behind in favour of the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

“You came for me,” he could feel your smile against his lips and couldn’t help but return it, “I’m so glad.”

“I could hear you calling for me, how could I resist the prayers of my Goddess.”

Your smile grew wider, your hands at the base of his neck flexed, pulling him back for another kiss as your cheeks warmed at the thought, you were his Goddess and he had come for you, despite what they had all said. He had killed for you, just as you knew he would. For as much as you were his Goddess he was your God and would answer all your prayers if you just believed. 

The feeling welled inside of you, bright and brilliant, as hot and bubbling as your magic had ever been and you could feel his sedir returning its call, building and building, silver and gold and green and blue filling the room with light until…crack. One of the runed stones above the door cracked, splinters of rock raining down on you both. 

“Please, let’s get out of here,” you begged, your lips only as far from his as they needed to be to form words, brushing against his with every syllable. “I miss my magic and I’ve missed you.”

Loki looked up at the broken stone and down at the golden magic curling around his fingers, “it should start coming back to you, now that the spell has been broken.” He pointed at the hairline crack travelling through the stones. “But Stark has also suggested that you may be drugged or poisoned and as much as I think the man is an idiot most of the time, those scans of his have proven very useful. So we should ensure one of his Midgardian doctors looks at you as well as an Asgardian healer.” Loki’s face was full of fury at the mention of you being poisoned, he’d come so close to losing you that the thought of reliving your pain in one of the Avenger’s horrid little hospital rooms was making him sick. 

Loki turned you towards the door, supporting you through your many layers of fabric, but you pulled away. 

“I can’t go out there like this,” you gestured at your torn dress, your knees below speckled with grit and softened by bruises.

“The depths of my magic haven’t returned yet, my darling, we have to conserve our energy for our escape.” 

You bent forward and ripped the bulk of the pillowy petticoats from the bodice before testing your magic. That bubbling sensation hadn’t faded and, sure enough, when you focussed hard, your bare legs became covered by Asgardian leather, tall, boots encased your feet, a navy blue tunic replaced the satin and silk. 

Loki marvelled at the silver shimmer of your magic, so strong even when poisoned and held back with ancient spells. He couldn’t help but notice that your clothes were Asgardian, a mirror of his own with a hint of both emerald and the midnight blue that you favoured.

“You, my asynja, are incredible.” He took your hand again, “and when we are safe I promise you all the care you need, whatever your beautiful heart desires.” 

You smiled, glad to be free of the restrictive dress and looking forward to requesting another one of Loki’s luxurious baths, perhaps he’d join you this time instead of sitting by the side. You could almost feel the hot water running over your skin, slipping against his own bare chest. 

Loki released his cloak from the gold epaulettes at his shoulders and swung it around you, pulling it tight over your chest against the cold. 

“Warm enough, my darling?” He smoothed his hands down the buttery leather, willing it to become softer, warmer, lined, anything to stop the imperceptible shivers that you were trying to hide.

“Yes, thank you.” You smiled, but couldn’t help but look at your wrist sadly. It shouldn’t matter that your bracelet was lost, you had Loki and that was all that truly mattered. 

Noticing your glance, Loki reached into his breast pocket and pulled the delicate gold chain out, taking your wrist gently in his hands and fastening the bracelet again. The movement made the matching ring on Loki’s finger flash in the pale light and it filled your heart with happiness.

“I didn’t mean to lose it, I was trying to drop my glove or something but -” 

Loki cut you off with a quick kiss and, as your eyes met again, you suddenly felt shy. “I think we should definitely leave now,” Loki whispered into your ear and kissed your forehead, “can you walk?”

“I can walk,” you  muttered,  “I’m just, I’m tired.” You lent your weight into Loki’s side and allowed him to wrap an arm around your waist again.

“Let’s get you somewhere safe”

<< Chapter 9

Chapter 11 >>

A/N:

Loki sees a sigil for the Vanir and I deliberately didn't describe it because I don't think that's really a thing, please chalk it up to artistic licence.

The Vanir: giving their name to the realm Vanaheimr, the Vanir are a pantheon much like the Aesir. They're associated with fertility, wisdom and prophecy.

[fiapartridge]

catching fire au | devils' golden girl

jack hughes x hockey!player

summary: jack and riley have a conversation during training camp and surprise! it doesn't end up with them making out on the ice...

warning(s): jack's an asshole (again!)

a/n: this one's short! but i love their little conversation there's so much tension between them. i can't wait until they're like super flirty and he's like fingering her under a table or something LMAO

taglist (send in an ask or dm me if u wanna be on the taglist for this au!): @hockeyboysarehot @lunnnix

SECT. I: TRAINING CAMP DAY TWO.

THE RINK WAS cold and empty. Only a couple of stragglers roamed around the practice facility, making sure the doors were safely secured to its hinges, the ice was resurfaced, and the pucks were in their correct placement. The red and white banners hung along the walls echoed greatness, providing a sort of unease in the pit of Riley’s stomach. She knew she was great; she deserved this, but had the doubts gotten to her head just the tiniest bit? Definitely.

Leaving her helmet on the bench, Riley skated a couple rounds on the ice, getting a feel for the area before everyone would come barreling in, making this space their own. Yesterday was overwhelming to say the least. The guys were fast—faster than any of the players in the NCAA—and they were much stronger. She was scared that Jack’s words were going to turn out being true; that Tom, who had taken a chance on Riley when everyone else had doubts, and Lindy, who was one of the only people who treated her like all of the other players during the game yesterday, were going to find out that she’s not what they wanted for this team. Or worse, they were going to ship her off to Utica and she wouldn’t even be in the NHL anymore.

She must’ve gotten lost in thought because when she turned around, she wasn’t the only person on the ice anymore. 

“Saw your pics.” Riley scoffed upon hearing his voice, Jack Hughes. Jack had that voice that made you look. His voice was distinct: mid-tone, but not childish but not exactly adult-sounding. He was dressed in black sweats and a thin gray Devils quarter zip, a stick in his hands and a puck at his feet. “Looks like you’re the Devils’ golden girl now, huh?”

With an eye roll, she glided ahead. “Jealous?”

“Of the 32nd pick in the draft?” He wrinkled his face, shrugging. “Think I’m fine where I am.”

Swiftly stealing the puck from his stick and seamlessly transferring it to her own, Riley glided around the boy, watching his expression morph into a sign of annoyance. “You know, I always wondered why only one brother showed up to Luke’s games at Michigan,” she smirked, emitting a disapproving ‘tsk’ sound as she skated up and down the ice. “But you know, it kinda makes sense now. His other brother just had too much of an ego to show up for someone he loved.” Drawing near to the boy, she leaned in, just close enough for her words to burrow beneath his skin. “I mean you…by the way,” she slyly grinned. 

Jack furrowed his brows, rooted in place as he observed the girl effortlessly skate circles around him. “You don’t know anything about me,” he retorted.

Riley shook her head. “I know you’re not exactly a physical player, unless it’s when you’re coming after, well…me,” she chuckled. “Your core and lower-body strength can be compared to any kid in juniors, and your puck protection,” she gestured to the puck at her feet, the one she swiped from Jack the moment he hit the ice, “is abysmal at best. And I don’t even want to mention your skating because…I think we all know how bad that one is.”

Infuriated, Jack skated towards Riley, his eyes ablaze with envy. "And what about you, huh? You can't play defense, your puck handling is all wrong, and it's as if you've never been on a team in your entire life. College hockey might have gone easy on you, but welcome to the big league. Not everyone is going to be as forgiving."

“I appreciate your concern—”

“Not concern,” Jack cut off.

Riley’s smirk only grew. “I’m not scared of a couple of big guys. And what are you? 5’7?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “I’m 5’11.”

She hummed in response, angering him further. Skating closely, she placed a hand on his shoulder. Whispering, allowing the weight of the moment to linger in his mind, she said, "See ya later, Jacky."

[archivalofsins]

So, this is what I've gathered from the information that came out from Deep Cover and this is what I definitively believe happened.

There’s an article that Kotoko was reading in the middle of Deep Cover that has been translated. The contents of the article explain that Kotoko was taken to court after the incident in the warehouse. Kotoko testified that what she had done was self-defense. That her and the perpetrator of the kidnapping got into a scuffle as she was trying to rescue the girl and he died as a result of that.

This conflicts with what we are shown in Harrow.

In Harrow we see that Kotoko does not intervene while witnessing the girl being abducted. Instead deciding to come back to the location later after changing her attire.

This already conflicts with Kotoko's testimony that she ended up fighting the victim as she caught him red-handed as he tried to abduct another victim.

According to the female university student, she claimed that she had no other choice but to kill the victim in order to stop the jostling between the two when she caught the victim, who was a child kidnapper, red-handed.

Red-handed means in the middle of the act by definition.

She just did not fucking do that. It's illustrated to us that she did not do that in Harrow. So we already know her testimony is a lie off of this alone.

Yet, we are further shown that her plea of self-defense is baseless from Harrow as well. Since we are shown Kotoko surprise attacking the perpetrator.

Furthermore her first music video blatantly shows us her attempting to track down the victim. As we see her paying others for information on the matter. Along with her very obvious wall of baddies to hunt down. Where she has the victim circled before even encountering him.

Making her actions premeditated as well.

This makes it clear to the Milgram audience (who have access to this information unlike the court) that Kotoko had no intention of letting the perpetrator live to begin with regardless of what he was doing.

Just like the wall implies with her other victims in Deep Cover-

"Everytime death comes. The soul moves forward." "It’s a tie after saying sorry? What are you hoping for? Shall we replace the poor soul, and the miserable delusion. “I didn’t mean to offend”, “I won’t do it again” How many wins in a row?" - "Who don’t we want? Give me the verdicts of GUILTY." "I want a reason for judgment execution, I want it. Give me the next target."

22/08/05 (Kazui’s Birthday) Kotoko: ……Mukuhara Kazui. Thanks to you, I wasn’t able to properly serve justice to those who did something unforgivable. I’m currently acting as an agent for our prison guard Es. Don’t get in my way next time. Kazui: Oi oi, don’t be silly, Yuzuriha-chan. There’s no way I could just look away from your outrageous display of violence. Anyway, even disregarding the fact violence against those voted guilty isn’t a part of Milgram’s system, what you’re doing is just acting recklessly based on a broad interpretation. As long as I’m free myself, I’ll stop you. Kotoko: ……what a pointless argument. Hmph. Since Es forgives you, I have no choice but to forgive you myself too. If you to keep to your words, then you’d best do what you can to keep being forgiven. If you’re not, then next time you’ll be one of my targets. Kazui: Oh, how scary. That girl truly is frightening. ……well then, I wonder what the guard will decide to do with me. That’s the one thing I really can’t make out. Honestly……

Kotoko had no intention of letting anyone on that wall live. That wasn't an investigation it was a hit list. She just happened to conveniently find that guy in the middle of commiting a crime. Unlike the other guy she found living his everyday life and just chased into a side alley and jumped. This is more than likely why she didn't initially intervene when she saw the child being abducted in broad daylight.

Because if she did the chances of her being seen by someone else were more likely. If she waited until they were inside and changed her attire to better conceal her identity the likelihood of others intervening would be slimmer. If she only ever wanted to save that girl she could have did so right then and there when she did in fact catch him red-handed abducting her.

Yet, it was never about that. It was always about killing him and continuing on her personal crusade for justice.

The article then goes onto discuss how the elementary school age victim testified corroborating Kotoko’s story of self-defense. Stating that with her testimony and Kotoko's the defense stated that a case of genuine self-defense was established. Mr.Kaneshiro the newspaper president and father of the victim in this case later held a press conference discussing the barbaric nature of Kotoko’s actions. This seems to have taken place after Kotoko had been acquitted of any wrong doing.

The jury ruling this as a legitimate case of self-defense. During the press conference he stated that an independent investigation of events had been done. During which another autopsy had been conducted and established that there were injuries on the victim that could have only been caused by an excessive use of force. Additionally he announced that the school student who had testified corroborating Kotoko’s statement as saying that she had saved her recanted their testimony.

He speculated that Kotoko had threatened or coerced the girl into giving the testimony to begin with. Given Kotoko’s history with law.

Q.07 What did you study at university? Kotoko: Technically, I’m studying law. I’m on a break right now because there’s something else I want to do, though.

It is more than likely that Kotoko coached/groomed the elementary schooler to lie on the stand to better strengthen her case. If two witnesses are corroborating the same story and one of them is the elementary aged victim as jury is more likely to believe them than a dead child abductor.

The article even mentions that Kotoko goes to a famous university. Given that we know Kotoko was studying law and the school she was going to is famous/prestiguous or well renowned we can now track it down. The University she was more than likely going to could very well be-

Keio Law School in Tokyo, Japan

Or some play on it. It's so famous in fact that just googling famous law school Tokyo results in this.

So, that's another university down. (I say this tentatively because I didn't do that deep of a search into this or much of a search at all. Again this is the first school to come up searching the information provided to us. Honestly this post isn't about how finacially well off Kotoko is and whatever expensive illustrious college she goes too.)

Though I wonder how a prestigious or famous school would feel about one of it's students being involved in such a case. Was she really taking a break or did whatever school she was going to no longer wish to affiliate with her due to the accusations. Scandals like this aren't that good for schools of that caliber. Plus, even though the article doesn't mention the school by name just looking into Kotoko herself would show her ties to it.

This is an article on a press conference featuring concerning the death of wealthy business owners son. Someone who very well could have ties to the school Kotoko is attending. That's enough to well I don't ruin all her life plans honestly. People have been expelled for less and this guy now has pretty good standing to say that you're a brutish menace to society who shouldn't even be allowed on the street let alone studying and practicing law.

Who wants a murderer for a lawyer are these the sort of students this place takes in. Students who use excessive violence and coerce and threaten minors?! That'd certainly be a big scandal wouldn't it? The only thing that could make this worse is well if the father of the man she killed was the president of a news paper-

Kaneshiro Isamu’s (68) President of Senkou Newspaper loses only son in display of excessive force by student from xxxxx University.

Now that's a headline and he can run it as many times as he wants. I mean he's the president of the newspaper after all. He's a grieving father after all even if his son did have problems. Having someone like that have an issue with your school or you well that would be bad.

Back to what the audience in shown in Harrow. We know that Kotoko got the jump on her victim in an enclosed space with wooden flooring in contrast to the open space of the warehouse where the victim died later.

Giiven Kotoko's connection and knowledge of law among these other factors I believe this is the most likely timeline of the warehouse incident-

Kotoko takes the victim by surprise attacking him in the enclosed space.

The victim grabs the hammer near his feet and attempts to fight Kotoko off.

As we've been over previously, despite what the victim's shadow alludes to he is shown physically swinging the hammer ahead of him and facing forward not to the side.

The victim flees the enclosed space trying to put distance between himself and his assailant. Possibly even trying to flee the scene entirely.

Kotoko chases the victim down into the larger area of the warehouse. The part with concrete flooring. Catching him and finishing the man off.

Punching and stomping him out with an excessive use of force after already getting him to the ground.

After the incident Kotoko groomed/coached this child to lie in court for her. What Kotoko did is blatantly illustrated to be grooming.

Ove the course of the Deep Cover mv the young girl begins to mimic Kotoko’s behavior.

First through getting a hat of her own to be more like Kotoko,

Then on the street she is shown to be imitating how Kotoko walks and glares,

Before spotting Kotoko and trying to speak to her.

Taking advantage of this clearly traumatized child who she again left to suffer through this situation longer by choosing to not intervene when she saw her being taken to begin with.

Someone who more than likely looked up to her as her hero. The person who saved her from that. What is an elementary schooler going to do when someone who saved their life, the person who got them out of such a harrowing situation tells them that they may be punished for it. That they might go to jail for just trying to rescue them and the only way they can avoid that is by saying that the excessive use of force that this child more than likely witnessed was self-defense.

Their rolemodel, their hero, no their savior couldn't be wrong. This couldn't have been-

"Is this selfish? This isn’t too much is it?"

This wasn't excessive it needed to be done for you to be safe. Besides-

"I've never asked for your understanding!"

Kotoko even incentivises and goads this idolization from the girl in the lyrics of Deep Cover stating,

“Come on, rely on me, go on.”

Kotoko attempts to implement the same tactics we see her use here within Milgram on Es. Over the course of her first and second voice drama. However, it is made more apparent in her second voice drama than in her first.

Kotoko Voice Drama 1, Kotoko Voice Drama 2.

After the girl recanted her statement possibly because of what she saw Kotoko do later on the street in Deep Cover (or maybe even at the behest of her parents who have every right to be suspicious of this type of person hanging around their young daughter but that’s a bit too speculative) Kotoko meets up with her in the park. As she is reading the article discussing the recanting of the girl's statement during this scene she more than likely is meeting with the girl to discuss it.

This meeting may be an attempt to persuade the girl into retestifying on her behalf or coming out with a statement of her own in defense of Kotoko. This is more speculative but it would not be hard for Kotoko to frame it as though Mr.Kaneshiro had threatened the girl into recanting the testimony. Becuase he is a very wealthy and powerful individual it would not be difficult for people to believe that during this independent investigation he coerced the girl into withdrawing her statements to strengthen his own case.

Many can probably guess how that conversation turned out from her second trial glitched voice line.

“From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing earth closer to peace. Useless weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!”

It is likely that the girl refused to retestify. She may have even told Kotoko that she chose to recant her statement of her own volition. Not liking the behavior, she saw later. At this point it is highly likely that at the refusal to retestify on her behalf Kotoko came up with another plan. It would be incredibly easy to kill the girl herself then claim that she planned to retestify.

That she had come crying to her about how she'd been threatened into recanting her statement and she was too scared to say anything by herself, but someone must have seen. They were in public after all and then this happened. Better to that than to risk having the girl not only recant her testimony but possibly tell others about what she had seen her do recently as well.

Especially while the police were still seeking the assailant in the incident of the man in the back alley. Right now, they thought it was a man but if the girl told then it would be all over for her. The girl simply knows too much. Plus, with the news already framing her as a violent barbarian it'd be easy for people to believe she'd assaulted the other man as well.

While we don’t have solid confirmation of the girl’s death yet. The fact of the matter is most of the music videos of trial two have been focused on the victim’s side of things. The fact that Kotoko’s mv isn’t from the perspective of/highlights the child abductor or the man she jumped in the alley later is incredibly telling. Her glitched voice line in the second trial voice trailer being,

“From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing earth closer to peace. Useless weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!”

Is very telling as well. Since the statement implies that she is addressing a useless weakling, someone that cannot protect themselves, someone who needs her, someone that looks up to her. Someone that's outlived their usefulness to Kotoko because they refuse to defend/support her behavior anymore. All the things this child is shown to do throughout Deep Cover.

Making it increasingly more likely that Kotoko did not just kill the child abductor but the child as well. Because from the beginning Kotoko has said-

"If it damaged someone’s dream to the point of stopping it- I’ll gouge you out with my fangs."

It doesn't matter to her whether the person getting in the way of her dream is an adult or child.

20/06/18 Amane: Thank you very much for teaching me. ……but, though I realise it’s strange me saying this after I asked you, I must admit it’s kind of unexpected. You give off the impression of someone who wouldn’t want to get involved in things like this. Kotoko: ……well, you’re not wrong. I’m surrounded by people who could all be murderers, so I don’t plan on going out of my way to talk and make friends. I can’t let my guard down. But I like ambitious people like you. If you want to study more, then I’m happy to teach. Amane: I see…… You look scary at first impression, but I quite like the way you treat everyone equally regardless of whether they’re older or younger than you. You don’t just treat me like a child or anything like that. Kotoko: Treat you like a child? Hah, you’ve got to be kidding. Back when I was your age, I was already the person I am today. I don’t have any plans to let you get away with something just “because you’re a child.” ……remember that. There, I’ve finished marking. 83%. How do I put it… Even though you act like this, it’s not like you’re super brilliant at studying or anything, huh.

If her dream if all she ever wanted was a target. Someone to execute that whom she could feel justified in executing then anyone will do. It doesn't matter how small or large the offense. Evil is evil. Even if that evil is as simple as disagreeing with her actions or recanting a statement.

Even worse voting her Innocent just to vote her guilty later is a lot like recanting a statement isn't it. Man those Haruka and Kotoko parrallels keep growing. Didn't he say that if we got close we wouldn't like him, didn't he just argue about how unfair it is to say he's good and then change our mind later during his second voice drama.

"Tell me why you tell me, “Stop”. Don’t you dare stop now."/"Tell me why? Please don’t change."

Just a really interesting thing going on there.

Kotoko even apologizes to Es for not being able to properly deliver punishment to Amane Momose and Mikoto Kayano at the beginning of her second voice drama. Finding it laughable that Es expected that she would not deliver punishment to Amane just because she was a child. Reiterating that she in fact planned to jump the girl as she did Mahiru and Futa as well. However, she was deterred not only by how much time she spent fighting Mikoto but by Kazui as well who intervened once she reached Futa.

So, she has no qualms with killing or severely injuring minors or manipulating them in order to get away with her own actions. At the end of the day-

This is Milgram.

People can vote whichever way they want for any bias under the sun. They can turn away from whatever information they dislike and prop up whatever best fits the narrative they want to see. They can be just as self-centered, coniving, and dishonest as the prisoners themselves. Because when you like someone, when you admire them, you'd do anything to make sure they're doing okay even lie in court or withold information from the police.

Because you believe deep down they're good and if you just give them the opportunity to be that then they will. If you're just sympathetic and try to talk to them about it certainly they'll understand.

"Say that sympathy is useless."

Kotoko's shown us exactly where thinking like that gets you with her- Does anyone feel lucky enough to test that again?

[talonslockau]

Forest of Secrets - Chapter 48

Chapter 47 || Index || Chapter 49

The training hollow was dark, the dying rays of the setting sun unable to penetrate through the foliage that obscured the sandy clearing from the sky above. Dusk training was rare, as the time was usually reserved for sharing tongues as the Clan returned to camp from their myriad duties. That meant that there was no one but Fireheart to observe the secret training occurring beneath the Clan’s nose.

Cinderspark and Snowkit circled each other, their blue gazes trained on one another as they waited for an opening. In a flash they were at each other, scattering sand as they struck each other with skilled precision. No longer was the young white tom a clumsy kit; now his balance was near perfect, making it difficult for Cinderspark to find a weakness in his defense. 

The young deputy watched, his eyes appraising the two fighter’s skill as they traded each blow. The dark gray molly lashed out at her opponent’s throat with a sheathed paw, but the white tom saw it coming and easily sidestepped out of the way, responding with a strike that went whistling over her ears. The warrior took the opportunity to rush forward, slamming into the young tom’s chest and sending him flailing backwards into the sand.

“Well done! That was close.” Fireheart called from where he sat at the edge of the clearing, his ears perked forward as he did his best to translate his words into what Cinderspark had taken to calling silent-speak. He felt clumsy, especially compared to the fluid grace with which the other warrior used it, but he knew that he would only get better with time.

The dark gray warrior whirled around, her ears pinned back as she glared at the ginger tom sitting across the clearing. “This is fleabrained!” She hissed, her tail lashing as she advanced on him.

He blinked in shock at her words, surprised to hear such anger from the young molly. “What do you mean? You did well!” He replied, unsure what had suddenly upset her.

“So did he, and that’s the problem!” The newest warrior spat, her scruff bristling. “You can see just as well as I can that he can fight just as well as a warrior, so why is he stuck here practicing with me? He should be practicing with the other apprentices - with a real warrior!”

Though her words had clarified her meaning, he still tilted his head in confusion. “You are a real warrior, Cinderspark. You earned your warrior name.” He replied, abandoning his attempts at silent-speak now. He had the feeling this wasn’t a conversation that Cinderspark wanted Snowkit to hear.

She tossed her head with a dismissive snort. “You know what I mean. He should have a mentor, not someone like me teaching him. He deserves to be an apprentice.”

Fireheart wilted slightly. She was right, of course - he’d seen how Snowkit was improving under Cinderspark’s tutelage. He was just as good as any other apprentice at sparring now, and while he hadn’t seen the white tom hunt, he was sure that with training he would be able to perform just as well as Cherrypaw or Brightpaw. It wasn’t fair that he was forced to be an elder when he was so young - when he had so much life left in him.

“Be that as it may, Cinderspark, what can we do about it? Bluestar’s made up her mind.” He took care not to mention the leader’s state - though she was doing better, she was still so fragile. Even if she did change her mind - which she didn’t seem eager to do - getting her to do a ceremony right now seemed like too much.

“You’re her deputy, for Starclan’s sake! Make her change her mind!” The gray molly snapped back at him, her fluffy tail still lashing as she glared at him. “You’ve seen Snowkit training, and you agree that he should be an apprentice. It’s your job as a deputy to make sure he gets a mentor!”

Fireheart refrained from snarling back about how he shouldn’t be deputy. Nor could he remark upon how he couldn’t make her do anything; he’d tried, and failed, to make her depose of Tigerclaw, and that had turned out so wonderfully for the Clan. But those weren’t Cinderspark’s problems to concern herself with, so he said nothing aloud, instead looking out into the forest towards camp.

“Well?” She challenged him, getting up in his face now. “Or are you saying that he doesn’t deserve to be an apprentice? Do you think that I haven’t taught him well enough?” There was a furious spark in her eyes, a daring for him to challenge her - and he knew all too well exactly why it was there.

“No, I-” He sighed, standing up now and turning away from her. “Fine. I’ll go talk to her about it, but don’t expect anything to change. She… Just keep training, for now.”

He didn’t hear Cinderspark’s response as he padded away, his paws feeling like stone beneath him. He had a feeling he already knew how this was going to go; yet, the warrior was right that Snowkit deserved a chance, and there was always the possibility he was wrong. Maybe Bluestar would change her mind now.

He pushed through the bramble tunnel into camp, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze as he entered. “Fireheart!” He grimaced as he heard his name called, looking up to see Peppermask crossing camp with a concerned green gaze. “Where have you been? After all the patrols returned, you weren’t back, and I-”

“I was taking a walk with Cinderspark.” He interrupted before she could finish. “She wanted to stay out and enjoy the stars some, so I let her. Now I need to go talk to Bluestar.”

“I- Oh. Alright, then.” The gray tabby looked baffled at his apparent disinterest and monotone voice, but he didn’t give her a chance to ask any questions before he was walking past her towards the Highrock. Whitestorm was sitting guard outside, his golden eyes curious as the deputy approached, but he was silent as Fireheart pushed his way past the moss and into Bluestar’s den.

The silver leader was cleaning her whiskers, having evidently just finished a meal. She blinked up at him, her blue eyes unreadable as she regarded her young deputy. “Fireheart? What is it?” She asked, her voice quiet but loud enough to hear in the small den.

He took a deep breath, trying not to let his nerves get to him. He hadn’t even thought of what he was going to say, but he couldn’t just walk back out. “Snowkit should be an apprentice.” He announced, his words echoing off the stone around him.

Bluestar’s gaze immediately narrowed at his words. “Perhaps you don’t realize, Fireheart, but Snowkit is deaf. He cannot hear sounds. He is a liability out on the territory, when he can’t hear a Monster on the Thunderpath, or orders during a battle. He can’t hear the bark of a dog or-”

“I know that, Bluestar.” Fireheart snapped, cutting her off before she could go further. “I know he’s deaf, but it does him and the Clan a disservice to have an able-bodied cat wasting away in the elder’s den - not to mention it’s cruel to never give him at least an apprentice name, when even I got one on my first day in the Clan. Certainly, he might have to make certain concessions - not fighting in battle, not patrolling alone - but there’s no reason not to at least train him to hunt and fight.”

“You say you know, yet you clearly don’t understand.” Bluestar snapped at him, her silver scruff slowly rising now. “Any moment he’s out on the territory, he will have to be watched by another warrior, a constant burden on our already limited ranks. He will be impossible to train when he can’t hear instructions. The most he can do is gather moss, clean nests, and fix the camp wall, which is precisely what he does now. He’s fine where he is.”

Fireheart dug his claws into the ground below him, trying his hardest not to growl bitterly at the queen before him. “But it’s not fine, Bluestar! He’s miserable where he is, and so are most of the elders. They want to see him trained, not just me and Speckleflight. You can ask any of them, and they’ll all say they think he deserves a chance. If you could just see-”

“Are you questioning my judgement?” Bluestar hissed, her tail tip flicking furiously as she stared him down. “Snowkit will remain an elder. That is final.”

For a heartbeat, Fireheart considered walking away. Was this argument really necessary over Snowkit, of all the cats in the Clan? Perhaps it was better to keep the peace for now, to let her think about it and come to terms with it on her own time.

Then he straightened up, his own tail lashing as he glared back at her. He’d been meek and submissive to Bluestar long enough; sooner or later, he would have to stand up to her, and Snowkit was as worthy of a cause as he could think of. “Yes, actually, I am.” He spat back, letting his fur rise to match hers. “You call Snowkit deaf, but you’re the one that refuses to listen when anyone tries to tell you anything, because you can’t ever admit you might be wrong. You didn’t listen to Yellowfang when she said Starclan sent a sign that Tigerclaw shouldn’t be deputy; you didn’t listen to me when I told you he was a murderer; and not only that, you ignored Frostfur’s wishes and gave her kit to be trained by him just to spite me!”

The silver leader stared at him with wide blue eyes, but he wasn’t finished yet. “And as if that wasn’t enough, now you huddle here in your den so you can ignore the mess you’ve made - that you continue to make - outside! Snowkit does his best all day, trying to prove to you that he can be an apprentice, not that you’ll ever bother to see it. I’m out there running myself ragged trying to keep this Clan from falling apart - I even had to represent Thunderclan on my own at the Gathering, thanks to you. And that’s not even mentioning the flood, which you wouldn’t have known about if I hadn’t told you.”

The den was quiet now, filled only with the sound of him breathing heavily as he glared at the leader he had looked up to for so long. “What happened to you, Bluestar?” He asked, lowering his voice now. “When I first joined Thunderclan, you seemed so wise, so powerful. You handled Redtail’s death with grace and dignity, even as you mourned the loss of a deputy that had led by your side for seasons. I remember how you sent me after Yellowfang, alone, because you knew the rest of the Clan might hurt her over Spottedleaf’s death. And I remember, too, how you stood up for Windclan, how you convinced the other leaders into letting them return. You were a great leader.” He shook his head and turned away. “At least, that’s what I thought. I wanted to believe it so badly, but now, with how you’ve been acting? I think I only thought you were great because that was what I wanted to see. I think there was never a great leader to begin with; only this miserable, stubborn old cat whose ears are so far up among the stars that they can’t listen to the rest of us still on the ground.”

He knew without a doubt that he had lost this argument. He knew that he had taken a swing at their already tenuous relationship with such force that it would surely shatter. And though he knew that he would regret it later, he couldn’t help but feel as though he had shaken off a burden he didn’t even know was there.

He didn’t look back as he stormed out of the curtains, past Whitestorm, and towards the entrance. Cinderspark was by the elders’ den with Snowkit, looking at him expectantly, but he didn’t even give her a glance as he rushed past. He wasn’t sure where he was going - just that he needed to be out of camp at this very moment.

He had only gotten halfway up the ravine wall when he heard someone calling his name. He turned to see Whitestorm walking towards him, his thick brows furrowed. “Young Fireheart! Please, wait a moment.”

“Save it.” Fireheart growled, turning back to continue climbing up the rocky slope. With how loud he had shouted, he had no doubt that Whitestorm had heard every word of his ranting at Bluestar, and was surely coming to admonish him for lashing out at his aunt. “I don’t need a lecture from you. I said what I said, and I meant every word.”

He thought that might be enough to ward Whitestorm off - at least for a little while - but he soon heard the scattering of pebbles behind him as the large tom followed him. “I will not scold you, Fireheart.” He blinked in surprise, turning back at the top of the ravine to watch the warrior clamber up beside him. “Perhaps there was a gentler way for it to be said, but that is not the point I was going to make. You told her the truth; she was going to have to hear it eventually.”

“I…” Fireheart sighed, letting the tension in his shoulders relax. With a flick of his tail, Whitestorm signaled for the younger tom to follow, and he did so without hesitation. “I shouldn’t be deputy, Whitestorm. I hate being deputy. I know everyone’s judging me and I don’t know if I’m making the right decisions and I’m scared of what will happen when I make the wrong one. I want to go back to being a warrior. I want her to choose someone better, and I don’t understand why she refuses to when you’re right there.”

It felt good to get it all out, sharing his worries with the empty night as they walked. The large warrior beside him listened, not saying a word, until a moment had passed after his last words and the older Thunderclanner was sure he had no more to say. “How much do you know about Adderfang?” Whitestorm asked Fireheart quietly.

He blinked up at Whitestorm, a mixture of confusion and anger and sadness all coursing through him at once at the question. “I don’t- I know he was Bluestar’s rival for deputy. I know Pinestar thought he was the subject of a prophecy. I know he mentored Tigerclaw, when he was an apprentice. I know… I know he ordered Tigerclaw to attack Tinyfrost, before he had joined the Clan.”

The great warrior nodded sadly, turning his gaze out into the forest. “Yes, those are all true. He was a fierce fighter, the Clan’s greatest warrior - just like Tigerclaw was. There was none around that could best him - not even Raggedstar or Crookedstar. Every cat in Thunderclan admired him, in a way - especially his kits, Willowbranch, Nightwish, and Mistspring.” He looked back to the young deputy to catch his green gaze widening in shock. “Yes, surprising, isn’t it? They don’t act much like him - except, perhaps, for Mistspring, who inherited his boldness.”

Fireheart dipped his head in agreement. “I… the way everyone talks about him, I can’t see him having kits.”

“Tigerclaw had kits, did he not? Only Dustleap seems to have inherited his warlike ways, though even Sandstorm has his combative nature.” Whitestorm glanced up at the foliage above them for a moment. “The truth is, Fireheart, no cat is fully good - just as no cat is fully bad. Even Tigerclaw, for all his faults, believed he was doing what he must for the good of the Clan.”

They walked in silence for several heartbeats before Whitestorm spoke again. “As you already know, Pinestar was the leader of Thunderclan before Bluestar. His father, Oakstar, was leader before him. It was claimed - though I do not know whether it was true - that Thunderstar himself was their ancestor, and that made them more suited than any cat to rule Thunderclan.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Whitestorm’s ears perked at Fireheart’s exclamation, and the ginger tom quickly composed himself. “I mean, every cat I’ve met seems to think Pinestar was a terrible leader. And Bluestar is- she was a good leader, before Tigerclaw, and she’s not related to them, is she?”

“No. Though there were rumors Pinestar was my father, when I was an apprentice. Bluestar squashed any notion of that when I asked her about it though.” Fireheart looked away, trying not to show that he knew the truth - that Brokentail, who everyone believed Whitestorm had killed, was his father. “And yes - though Pinestar’s story has been revised since his disappearance, he was weak-willed and poorly adapted to leadership. He was a fine cat - had he not become leader, I am sure he would have been a good warrior, and retired at old age to become a beloved elder. But because of Oakstar’s insistence on Thunderstar’s legacy…”

Fireheart nodded slowly in response. He was beginning to understand why Whitestorm had brought up the old leader now. “But how does Adderfang fit into this? He wasn't related to Pinestar, was he?”

Whitestorm shook his head. “No, not to my knowledge. The truth is, Pinestar wanted Tigerclaw to succeed him, just as he had succeeded his father before him. He was old, however, and on his last life when Tigerclaw was born. He knew it was unlikely he would survive to see Tigerclaw become a warrior - let alone a warrior old enough to mentor an apprentice and become deputy. He needed an intermediary, a cat he could trust to choose Tigerclaw, or his kits, when the time came. Someone who would fulfill his legacy.” The white tom scrunched his nose up into a grimace. “Remember, he already believed Adderfang was chosen by Starclan. He thought that if he gave his only kit to Adderfang to mentor, that Adderfang would watch over him as if he were Tigerclaw’s father, and that he would one day be more likely to choose him to succeed him in leadership.”

“And he knew Bluefur wouldn’t?” Fireheart questioned. After all, she had ended up choosing Tigerclaw in the end - even if it had been a dire mistake she had paid for with her lives.

“Bluefur was never very fond of Pinestar - she tolerated him as her leader, but that was as far as her respect for him went. After her mother died in a raid on Windclan territory, she made a habit of questioning his decisions. I suspect he believed she wouldn’t respect his wishes.” Whitestorm sniffed disdainfully at the thought of the older leader. “Of course, when he was confronted by the cat that Adderfang had become, he had no choice but to choose her instead, regardless of the consequences of his legacy. Perhaps if he had made better decisions, things would have been different - but it’s so easy to say that, with the benefit of hindsight.”

Fireheart curled his lip at that. Perhaps Whitestorm was right, and if he had been in Pinestar’s place, he would have made similar decisions. Still, he couldn’t help but feel as if, with all that he’d heard about Pinestar, he could have been a better leader. One that Thunderclan deserved - and certainly not one that mentored his kit to a kit-killer.

“It was from Pinestar’s decisions that Bluestar realized the risks inherent in creating a legacy of leaders - that it would prevent leaders from choosing the best warrior for their deputy, allowing weak leaders to ascend and wreak havoc on the Clan with their poor decisions. Or, in the case of Raggedstar and Brokentail, that it would blind the leader to their children’s faults.” The names of the old Shadowclan leaders spilling from Whitestorm’s tongue sent a jolt up Fireheart’s spine. The senior warrior had no idea that he was talking about his father and grandfather - not that the ginger tom dared tell his companion that. “She swore that she would never allow a legacy to form in Thunderclan again. Not Pinestar’s, nor-”

“Then why’d she let Tigerclaw be deputy? He’s still Pinestar’s son.” Fireheart blurted out before he could stop himself. Whitestorm’s stare made him duck his head apologetically, but he felt his question was right, and didn’t intend to take it back. “I mean, how’d she know he wouldn’t continue said legacy?”

“Before Quickflash’s death, she wouldn’t have considered him for precisely that reason. Though Dustleap and Sandstorm are fine warriors, and may make good leaders one day, she feared that Tigerclaw would feel fettered by the past. Though he rejects his father wholeheartedly, she worried that he might feel compelled to follow his wishes regardless…” Whitestorm’s gaze was troubled as he spoke, his tail flicking like his aunt’s often did when she was irritated. “If Redtail hadn’t appeared, I still have my doubts she would have chosen him. And yet…”

Fireheart grit his teeth at the mention of the troublesome tortoiseshell tom that had haunted the forest. He knew Redtail hadn’t intended for his appearance to cause such damage - and yet, knowing that it had, he couldn’t help but blame him for their recent troubles. Perhaps if he’d just minded his business…

“From your outburst earlier, it seems as if you already know what happened.” Whitestorm mewed, a tinge of curiosity in his eyes as he regarded the younger cat beside him.

“Yellowfang told me.” Fireheart admitted readily - there was no harm in Whitestorm knowing now, he figured. “She was one of the cats that discovered what Tigerclaw was up to before… before.” He didn’t need to say it out loud; they both knew he was speaking about the final battle in Thunderclan’s camp. “That was why she was so insistent on him not becoming deputy.”

“I had wondered as much.” His older companion replied, returning his gaze to the path ahead of them. Fireheart wasn’t sure exactly where they were going - perhaps towards the Great Sycamore? - but he also figured it didn’t really matter. The territory was theirs, after all, and it wasn’t likely that anyone would disturb them now. 

“Do you wish he hadn’t shown up?” Fireheart questioned the wise white warrior, wondering if perhaps he had had the same thoughts regarding Redtail’s appearance.

“No.” Whitestorm replied, to his surprise. “It was sudden, true, but it was a sign that Yellowfang interpreted easily. Starclan doesn’t always send such clear signs - Goosefeather taught me that, and though Spottedleaf tried her best, she rarely received such insight into their visions.”

Right - Fireheart had forgotten that not every cat knew that Redtail hadn’t yet joined Starclan. His sign had only been a result of his will. “I just - if Yellowfang interpreted it so easily, why did Bluestar ignore her?”

“I wish I knew.” The other tom admitted with a heavy sigh. “Bluestar has always heavily considered what Goosefeather and Spottedleaf had to say - even if she disagreed with their interpretations in the end. Her ignoring of Yellowfang worried me, and since then…”

He trailed off for a moment, and they both knew Whitestorm was thinking of his aunt - curled up in her nest, staring sightlessly at nothing after her deputy’s betrayal. “Starclan rarely sends a clearer sign. I can’t fault them for it - I only wish Bluestar had listened.”

Fireheart nodded listlessly. He wished the same - or that Starclan had otherwise intervened when he had revealed Tigerclaw’s treachery to Bluestar. He understood in that case, however, why Redtail had chosen not to show up, given what had happened when he’d tried it before. “Did they send a sign that clear to make me deputy? Some cats were thinking that, and I-”

“No.” His heart sank as he heard Whitestorm confirm what he had feared. “Bluestar, she- I think that she was afraid of choosing another deputy that could betray her again. She trusted Tigerclaw so much, and I think that the thought of trusting any cat with that position felt impossible. She hasn’t told me why she chose you, but I have a theory of my own. You were the only one there to save her - in her mind, I think, that made you the only one she could trust.”

The young deputy did his best to keep his face impassive, but his thoughts churned with bitter resentment. “What about Tinyfrost? He was there too. Or you? She trusts you most of all, so surely-”

He swallowed back his anger as Whitestorm rested his white tail against Fireheart’s ginger flank. “Because she fears creating her own legacy, as Oakstar did. She never wants to see a dynasty like that form in Thunderclan again - and, to that end, that she will never chose a cat related too closely to her as her deputy, out of fear that it might cause them to form their own legacy.”

“But that’s mouse-brained!” Fireheart exclaimed, stiffening as his thoughts caught up to his tongue. He hadn’t meant to say it aloud - but thankfully, Whitestorm was smiling at him, seeming amused by the younger tom’s words. “I mean - you’d make a fine deputy, regardless of your relation to Bluestar. Why can’t she see that?”

Whitestorm dipped his head to Fireheart. “I’m glad to have your vote of confidence, young one. Who knows? Perhaps I would make a good leader.” He gave a deep, heavy sigh and stared once more into the forest. “But Bluestar has made up her mind, and I respect her reasoning, enough that I won’t argue her out of it. For better or worse, I will never be deputy - and neither will Tinyfrost or Lionheart.”

Fireheart tilted his head in confusion. “You I understand, I guess, since you’re her nephew, and she mentored you. Tinyfrost too - she’s the reason he joined Thunderclan, after all, and she mentored him too. But why in Starclan’s name wouldn’t she choose Lionheart?”

“Because he’s my mate.” Whitestorm replied simply.

“That’s-” Fireheart refrained from saying mouse-brained again, even though it was precisely that. “By that logic, you might as well eliminate half the Clan! You were raised with Frostfur and Tigerclaw, so are they too close to you to be considered? What about your apprentices? Or me, since I was Tinyfrost’s apprentice? Or-”

“He is the father of my kits - therefore, he is related to me, and related to her.” Whitestorm interrupted gently, turning his gaze back to the tom beside him. Fireheart guessed the explanation made sense, though he didn’t like it any more than he had before. “Your dismay is understandable, however. It is a concern that Lionheart once shared, when I first told him Bluestar’s reasoning.”

“Really?” Fireheart perked his ears in surprise. Tinyfrost had once told him that Lionheart had been seen as a reckless, hot-headed warrior - a far cry from the subdued, wise warrior that was so similar to his mate, Whitestorm. It was not that Lionheart had shared his thoughts that surprised him, but rather that they were still mates despite it. “But he’s still your mate, isn’t he?”

“He is.” Whitestorm’s golden gaze clouded briefly. “But we weren’t born mates. We were once young warriors - fearless, reckless, witless young warriors.” He shook his head with another gentle sigh, even though his whiskers twitched as he smiled slightly. “When our hearts first began growing together, I told him what Bluestar had told me - that I would never become deputy, and that if he became my mate, he would never become deputy either. He… did not take it well. We ended up going our separate ways as a result.”

If Fireheart was honest, he didn’t know that much about love. What little it had been spoken of to him was confusing and alien, as it seemed to be when he spoke about Twoleg mannerisms to the other Clan cats. He had never heard of love breaking apart before - he’d almost thought it wasn’t possible, with how Graystripe and Silverstream acted. “But you’re about to have kits together, aren’t you? Something must have changed.”

“Indeed - though it did not seem that way at the time.” Whitestorm rumbled, shadows passing over his eyes once more. “We spent close to two season-cycles apart. I had assumed we were fated to be apart - that Starclan’s destiny was for me to walk alone, just as my aunt had. We grew to be great warriors - I had my own apprentice, Mistspring, and he was renowned as one of Thunderclan’s best warriors.”

Fireheart hadn’t heard that Whitestorm had mentored Mistspring before, but he supposed it made sense - she often seemed quite similar to his other apprentice, Sandstorm, though far less prickly. “And then?” He prompted, curious to hear the end of the tale.

“I’m sure you’ve heard by now of the Great Hunger, the leafbare before you joined. The prey was scarce, and famine ravished the clan - followed shortly by an outbreak of greencough that spread quickly through those already weakened by hunger. Many cats died from it, especially among the elders and senior warriors. I was nearly one of them.” Whitestorm’s ear flicked at his companion’s gasp of shock. “I contracted greencough, and was laid in Spottedleaf’s den. At my weakest, she had told Bluestar to prepare for my vigil, and Lionheart - he told me he overheard.”

“He told me that in that moment, he realized one thing - that being Thunderclan’s deputy, or leader, would mean nothing to him if it was a Thunderclan without me. He begged Starclan to save me, and it seems they saw fit to listen to his prayers.” A genuine smile was on the mighty warrior’s maw now as he looked up at the stars above them. “I began to recover, and he came to me and… you can imagine the rest.”

“Just like that?” Fireheart asked skeptically. “You didn’t hold any resentment against him?”

“No.” Whitestorm answered readily. “Though I can see how you would think that. Every kit dreams of being deputy, and perhaps even leader, one day; It is the greatest dream that a warrior can aspire to. Though he had not yet received an apprentice, Lionheart was a brave and bold warrior, and had trained under our longtime deputy, Redtail.”

“He had a bright future ahead of him; if he had not become my mate, there was every chance he could be chosen to become Bluestar's deputy when Redtail retired. I can't blame him for being upset and not wanting to throw that away.” Whitestorm tilted his head and looked back to Fireheart now.  “It was a childish dream, but it was a dream nonetheless, and I don’t blame him for being unable to let go of it so easily. In the end, I accepted his reconciliation because I saw that he was speaking the truth, and that he had grown significantly in our time apart. That is a belief I still hold true today.”

Fireheart hadn’t had a chance to think of his future beyond being a warrior; he had been so caught up in what Tigerclaw was scheming and preventing the dark tabby from becoming leader, that he hadn’t even considered becoming deputy or leader. Now that it had been thrust upon him, he struggled to understand why any cat would want to be either; but he knew that he had gotten a look into leadership that most cats didn’t have, and that perhaps if he was still a young warrior, he would feel differently. 

“I see.” He responded at last. “And what about you? Are you okay with never being deputy?”

The older warrior chuffed in amusement at his question. “When I was a young warrior, I must admit that I was frustrated with Bluestar's decision. I didn't fully understand it as I do now; as you, I'm sure, do now. But, in time, I have come to understand her reasons, and, truth be told, I have reasons of my own - reasons that, I suspect, are very similar to yours.” The warrior’s golden gaze burned into him now, and his fur began to prickle uncomfortably. It almost felt like when he had met Bluestar for the first time, and how she had seemed to know his every thought before even he had it. “You have seen how the burden of leadership weighs heavily on my aunt. While it's true that I could be a good leader one day, I think I would prefer to live a quiet life; one with Lionheart, and my kits, where I grow old and become a wise and beloved elder - the fate that Pinestar had taken from him by becoming leader."

Whitestorm was right; were it not for Bluestar, and how she had seemed to crumble after Tigerclaw’s betrayal, he might be fine with being deputy. Things would be far different if he hadn’t had to essentially lead the Clan in her absence. "It sounds childish, but I don't want to be Bluestar’s deputy anymore.  I don't want to be leader one day. I want to become a great warrior, maybe a great elder one day - no more than that." Fireheart mewed plaintively. 

Whitestorm nodded as if he had anticipated this. "I understand. You have carried a heavy burden, one that I suspect your peers would not have been able to carry so gracefully. Perhaps, with more time, when you are older, when you have had your own apprentices, you may change your mind once more - and there is no shame in that. But there is also no shame in admitting your weaknesses and knowing that you cannot carry this mantle for much longer.”

They walked through the forest for a long moment, silence filling the gap between them, until the white tom finally spoke up once more. “For now, I would ask that you stay deputy. My aunt is in a fragile state right now, seeing threats behind every word and shadows within even the brightest light. Give me time - give her time - and I will convince her to choose someone else as deputy. There are more candidates now than there were; quite good candidates, I suspect. Perhaps she will have an easier time now picking one of them."

Fireheart wished the answer was different - but he also understood Whitestorm’s reasoning. If he stepped down now, after his fight with Bluestar, she might perceive that as a betrayal in and of itself - and he feared what that could do to make her spiral, and potentially harm the Clan as a whole. “I understand, Whitestorm.”

"Is that all? Have I relieved your mind?" The mighty warrior asked, keeping his ears perked and his gaze focused on his deputy beside him.

Fireheart thought about it for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Thinking about there being an end in sight - the explanation you gave - I understand now, and I think I can handle being deputy a little bit longer."

Whitestorm nodded. "Very well. Now, if I may - there is a question that I wanted to ask you."

"Me?" Fireheart asked in surprise. Whitestorm was so wise and knowledgeable - he struggled to think of anything that he knew that the other tom didn’t, at this point.

"Yes. Ever since you first discovered her, you have always been closest to Yellowfang - and now, it is Yellowfang that troubles me. Or, perhaps, not her herself - but her behavior.”

A tangle of memories surfaced in his mind - Yellowfang in the foxhole prison, comforting her son Brokentail; Fireheart talking to the prisoner and learning of his half-Clan son; the shock of realization when Bluestar had told him about Snowstorm’s death. "How so?" Fireheart asked, his heart pounding. He suspected he knew what Whitestorm meant, yet he played dumb anyways - it was always possible that the older tom meant something else.

"Lately, Yellowfang has been spending a lot of time with me. At first, I thought it was simply because I was guarding Brokentail often - then, because of my injuries. But now that I am healed and well, and Brokentail is - " His head dropped slightly at the thought - "dead, I cannot understand why she chooses to remain in my company. She has always been an ill-tempered molly. To see her softer side so suddenly and so often confuses me. I've been trying to make sense of it - and I had hoped that you, being closest to her, might understand her change in attitude."

Fireheart nodded slowly. "Yes." He admitted at last, knowing he couldn’t pretend anymore. "I do know why, but I can’t tell you - it’s not my secret to tell. She means well, but- you’ll have to ask her yourself if you want to know more."

"I had suspected something like that. Still," Whitestorm sighed heavily, “I worry that she’ll take it the wrong way. Her behavior is perplexing, but I can’t say it is unwelcome. With Bluestar being so fragile, it’s nice to have a steady figure to turn to.” 

He had to admit this was a reasonable worry - even he had to admit that he and Yellowfang were prone to misunderstandings, the most prominent being when he had thought she knew about Tigerclaw when she was talking about a prophecy. “If that happens, just tell me. I’m certain that I can get through to her.” Which was more than he could say for Bluestar, a constant source of frustration for him now.

“Thank you. That does help, at least little.” Whitestorm purred, finally coming to a stop. Fireheart did the same, confused as to the sudden halt in conversation. “I should be getting back to camp. Lionheart will be worrying about me, and I have Bluestar to attend to.” His ears flickered briefly, but he nonetheless stood tall as he gave Fireheart a friendly wave. “I will leave you to your thoughts. Perhaps you can do a little night hunting, to let off some of that steam.”

Fireheart nodded in understanding; and, truth be told, that did sound like a good idea. He had a lot to process about what Whitestorm had told him, and he didn’t feel like returning to camp and facing Cinderspark and Snowkit anyways. “Can you tell Cinderspark not to wait up for me, as well? I’ll talk to her tomorrow, just… not right now.”

The older tom looked curious, but clearly sensed his desire not to elaborate. “I will do just that. Good hunting, Fireheart, and may Starclan light your path.”

“And may they light yours.” Fireheart echoed, watching as the white tom disappeared into the dark shadows beyond. He looked around at the forest surrounding him; a quiet silver in the moonlight, still and silent as it waited for the sun to rise once more. Hunting would be difficult, with only nocturnal creatures out now, but it was really the solitude that the ginger tom desired now.

Dropping into a hunting crouch, he stalked in the opposite direction, continuing towards the Great Sycamore. With any luck, there might be a few late-scavenging mice for him to bring back to camp and feed his ever-hungry niblings.

[dangraccoon]

I Don't Know Anymore

Day 29 ~ "who said you could rest?" ~

Wrecker

Word Count: 1399 Content: DARK CONTENT: 18+ Minors DNI, Slavery (Zygerrians), Abuse, Starvation, Dehydration, Electrocution, Hopelessness, Giving Up/In, Resentment, TBB's Chips Activate, Implied Completion of the mission to Onderon in s01e01

“Good work on Onderon, sergeant,” Tarkin hummed with a smirk. “I must admit, given the extensive documentation of your unit’s deviance, I am somewhat surprised by your loyalty to the Empire.”

“Thank you, sir,” Hunter said. “I hope it’s a… pleasant surprise?”

“Indeed. Your unique squad will be quite an asset. Your next orders should arrive soon.”

The door slid shut behind the Admiral, the squad falling out of their rigid formation.

Tarkin was right; their orders arrived only a few hours later. 

“‘CT-9903 is to report to Hangar 21-D at 1800. All other members of Clone Force 99 are to report to Conference Room K-02 at 0600 tomorrow,’” Tech read out.

“Awh,” Wrecker grumbled. “Why am I different?”

“Does it matter?” Crosshair rolled his eyes, flicking his toothpick toward him.  

“You’ll probably just get to miss the briefing,” Hunter assured him. “You’ve always hated those anyway.”

The few short hours passed uneventfully until Wrecker stood at the doors, ready to head to the hangar. “See you later?”

Hunter only nodded. 

As he walked into the seemingly empty hangar, something deep in the back of Wrecker’s mind whispered that something wasn’t right.

That same voice practically screamed as the door shut behind him, boxing him into the room.

“Someone there?” he called. “I think I’m supposed to be here.”

“Yes, you are,” Admiral Tarkin said, stepping out of the shadows. “Place your armor and gear in this crate; the associate we’re meeting should be arriving soon.”

The outer doors began to open as Wrecker deposited the last of his armor plates.

Wrecker narrowed his eyes at the incoming ship. “An Aurore-class freighter?”

Tarkin ignored him, moving to greet the Zygerian that stepped down from the lowering ramp.

“Prime Minister Molec,” he said.

“Admiral,” Molec purred. His eyes fell on Wrecker. “Is this the… specimen of which you spoke?”

“Yes,” Tarkin nodded. “As I previously mentioned, his unit will be used for stealth missions, and he is the… weakest link in that circumstance.”

Wrecker frowned but remained silent as the Zygerian prime minister circled him.

“Yes, I think he will do well,” he hummed.

Tarkin nodded. “I assume you have the sum of credits we discussed?”

“I do.”

—

He coughed harshly, the dryness in his throat stinging. He glanced over his shoulder at the guard glaring at one of his crewmates as she swung her pick at the wall. 

The sharp groan of metal breaking rang out and he could hear the young nautolan woman’s tremors.

“P-please, it- it was an accident,” she pleaded, her voice rough from disuse as the guard approached her, his electro-whip crackling in his hand.

He turned his face as the whip cracked and the woman cried out. Over the 11 months he’d been chained to the walls of these mines, he’d earned his share of new scars and felt the all-encompassing despair that racked his body as the electricity surged through. 

Most of his so-called “transgressions” were in defense of his crewmates, but it always ended the same way: both he and the original victim were beaten until they could barely stand. He’d stopped standing up against the guards for others about a week in, realizing it to be hopeless. His crew would be punished if they didn’t reach the minimum weight, and if he wasn’t taken down, they stood a greater chance. Passing the minimum weight meant their rations wouldn’t be reduced.

He’d tried to escape once. He waited until the guards changed shifts, easily breaking the chains and shock collar that trapped him, and he made a run for it.

He didn’t even reach the door before being caught, subdued, and punished.

He tried to tune out the woman’s cries, but he knew he’d hear them echoing in his mind. He lowered his pick to the ground, his ribs still sore and burning from his last beating.

“Who said you could rest?” another guard snarled, having appeared behind him.

His body fought to speak, to raise his fists against the slaver, but instead, he simply turned away, lowering himself to his knees to accept the inevitable punishment.

It hurt, of course. It hurt every time. Idly, he wondered if he was here long enough– if he endured enough cracks of those damned whips– if he willed his heart to just stop caring, would it stop the pain? Would all the nerves that screamed out for help finally die away, leaving him blessedly numb? 

The volume-sensitive shock collars had stolen that strong-willed, boisterous personality from him and left him with more time to think than he’d ever allowed before.

He had heard the prayers sent on hushed breaths to gods he couldn’t comprehend believing in. He’d never held an interest in religion or belief but found that as he looked around at the chained souls around him–hurt, starving, forsaken–he couldn’t bring himself to believe in the idea of any benevolent, loving maker. If one were real, how could they let their believers suffer like this? Where was the divine retribution for their torturers? No, he didn’t believe in their gods but he found more and more that it was just that he was here. 

The thought of his brothers with each lashing he received. He remembered their fierce, defiant natures and the way each one of them would stand up for what they thought was right. Because of this, he found himself thinking more and more of Onderon. 

Every sleepless night, every scrap of food confiscated, every drop of water denied–it was for them; for the souls he and his brothers deprived of the rest of their lives by some senseless order. They’d defied orders for less, but that one? They followed that order to the letter. 

So yes, he thought of his brothers. He thought of their final mission together. He wondered if they still lived, untethered and free beneath the millions of stars that dotted the sky. He wondered if the Empire sold their souls like they’d sold him. He wondered if they were paying for their sins or committing more. He wondered if they knew what happened to him. He wondered if they even cared.

Bitter resentment had long been brewing in his gut. He no longer wished for the flashes of comforting armor. He couldn’t picture the twirl of Hunter’s blade as it flew through the air into a guard's neck. He couldn’t imagine the careful dance through the enemy forces Tech would conduct as he set up a chain reaction. He couldn’t hear the even, steady beat of Crosshair’s rifle as his captors were picked off one by one. He couldn’t dream of Echo helping him to his feet, steadying his breaking body. 

He couldn’t feel the thrill of imagining his squad–his brothers–coming to save him from the relentless oppression he’d been sold into. 

He wasn’t an idiot; he knew that curiosity would have gotten the better of Tech. He knew his brother would look for him, and that between Tech and Echo, they could’ve found him if they cared to. 

But he knew they didn’t. 

He groaned as he lifted himself back up from the ground, back still stinging. 

An alarm sounded, indicating a shift change. He looked toward the woman whose pick had broken. She was out cold on the ground, the meager, so-called “clothing” they’d dressed them all in was all but disintegrated where it had laid across her back. The remnants of his heart ached for her. 

He turned her over, gently nudging her shoulder. When she didn’t wake, he snaked his arms around her back and beneath her legs, lifting her to rest against his chest. 

Her large, dark eyes opened slightly. Her lips moved, words softly carrying across her breath so only he could pick up through such careful practice. Any volume higher and the collar would activate. “What is your name?”

He hesitated with a scowl. It had been so long since he’d had any name, let alone the one he and his brothers had chosen. The very, very few times he had been referred to by anything beyond the harsh insults hurled at him by the guards and masters, it had been by his birth number or the number they’d branded to the back of his neck. Which would he give her? One slave number or the other?

His jaw shook as he mouthed his response. “I don’t know anymore.”

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Thanks for reading! - River

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[slafkovskys]

❛ is that my shirt? ❜ with cutter gauthier

i was in a cutter mood so this gets a part two (that not a single soul asked for)

“and you’re sure that you’re okay with me and cutter?” you stare at kennedy as you ask her the same question that you had already asked her thirty thousand times that morning.

“y/n, i promise if you ask me one more time i’m going to change my answer,” she laughs as she undoes her seatbelt. she leans her head against the headrest as she stares back at you, reaching for your hand, “you were my friend before you had, well, whatever you had going on with him. it’s weird and i’m just not used to it yet, but i’m okay with it as long as it doesn’t get in between us.”

“i’m not going to let it,” you vow, untangling your hands and holding up your pinky, “girls before bros, this time quite literally.”

she smiles as she wraps her newly manicured pinky around your own, “girls before stupid bros.”

you laugh at the face she makes before undoing your seatbelt and sliding out of the car. you grab your drink and head into the house. you find kingston on the couch which was where you had left him almost three hours before. you send kennedy a raised eyebrow and she sends you back an evil smirk as she picks up a pillow off one of the chairs and sends it over the back of the couch. kingston shoots up, “hey!”

“good morning sunshine!” she calls as she strolls towards the direction of her bedroom before he could retaliate.

“that was all her,” you hold your hands up in defense when kingston glares at you, “where’s cut?”

“no, i totally accept the apology,” the younger boy rolls his eyes as he settles back into whatever show he was watching, “and he’s still in your room. been moping around ever since you abandoned him to go and get your nails done without informing him first, which how dare you leave me with that.”

you huff as you move towards the stairs, “i’m in debt to you, okay?”

“you absolutely are!”

you roll your eyes as you make your way to the bedroom you and cutter were sharing on this little vacation. while the original plan was for you to bunk with kennedy downstairs, no one was surprised when you were unloading the car, cutter had wordlessly taken your bags into his room. his parents hadn’t uttered a word about it over the four days you had been here and with four more to go, you highly doubted that they would now.

you push open the door to find him under the sheets, phone pressed to his ear. once he spots you, his face lights up, “can i call you back in a little while? no, everything’s fine. my mom needs me. okay, great, talk to you later.”

“who was that?” you ask as you close the door behind you, hanging your purse on the door. you make your way over to the bed to lay beside him, but he has none of that, pulling you to straddle his hips instead.

“my agent. wanted to talk about some brand things since we can do deals now,” he mumbles. his hand finds your cheek as he gently pulls you down to connect his lips with yours, “you didn’t say goodbye this morning.”

“i told you last night that ken and i were going to get our nails done this morning and if you wanted me to wake you up before we left. you said no,” you poke at his chest, “that is on you, sir.”

“is that my shirt?” he asks, changing the subject as he pulls on the hem of the team usa shirt that you were wearing.

“well i haven’t played on any national team,” you roll your eyes before you pat his chest. he takes his eyes off of where his thumbs were rubbing circles into your hips under your shirt and gives you his full attention like he always did when you so demanded it, “she’s okay with it. with us.”

“swear?” he says as though you would lie about the only thing that had been keeping you from being fully each others for months now. “no limits?”

“she just wants you to remember that i was hers before i was yours and that this won’t get in the way of our- cutter!” you squeal as he rolls the two of you over, pressing his lips to yours this time a little bit harder. your arms wrap around his neck as his tongue traces your bottom lip. you let him in, but only for a second before you’re pulling away breathlessly, “we can’t right now. i told kingston i would go parasailing with him.”

“you need to stop making promises to my family,” he growls, but you can see in his eyes that he doesn’t really mean it as he presses his lips to yours again, “be my girlfriend, for real?”

“i mean, i guess since i don’t have any other prospects right now,” you joke, glaring at him when he pinches at your thigh. “that’s no way to treat your girlfriend.”

“i’m trying to figure out if i want to hard launch you or soft launch you,” he says, eyes following you as you slip out from underneath him. you start to dig through your suitcase for a swimsuit you hadn’t yet worn while he continues on, “i want everyone to know, but at the same time nobody needs to know.”

“everyone already knows, honey. it just didn’t have a label.”

he raises an eyebrow, “were we that obvious?”

“you had your hand on my ass so much during the draft that your mom had to tell you to move it up when the cameras were rolling,” you send him a look and his cheeks turn red. you emphasize, “everyone knows.”

“what did you have to drink?” he mumbles, licking his lips as he stares at the white cup you had sat on the nightstand.

“a strawberry kiwi smoothie. why?”

a smirk forms on his lips, “i could taste the strawberry, just couldn’t figure out what the other thing was.”

“i’m breaking up with you.”

[open-hangar]

Space Defense Lanzer Ep. 7

CHARGON-ASSISTED ACCELERATED BREEDING PROGRAM SUBJECT RECORDS

Ngodumo Lwe Siyanqoba

Subject No. Fe.32A [Note: Subject prefers to be called “Nobubele” or “Bel”]

Species: F. Catus

Birth Date: ~0097 ADA

Size: 91cm from mask to tail tip, 11kg with mask and collar

Intelligence: Fully understood human speech at ~2 months, adult human-like speech [assisted] at ~4 months, 1st unassisted takeoff and landing at ~1 year. Faster learning and reaction speed than the majority of cadets. Abnormally high level of empathy, watch this for future issues.

Etc.: Enlarged brain larger than feline skull and underdeveloped facial muscles, necessitating a specialized mask for protection and expression. Requires specialized collar for communication and piloting. Currently assigned to Kpt. Dimba. Likes singing [Note: irrelevant, strike from records]

You and I are numbers first

And lovers second

Nobubele curled herself up onto the spacer’s sleeping chest, their soft breaths and beating heart calming her into gently purring. Kaptein Nomfundo Dimba, her commanding officer and lover, looked into the living room from the kitchen of the previously-unabandoned building that they were occupying. “We still have some eggs left, gonna fry some up. Also don’t smother them.”

Bel didn’t have the heart to tell her that she’d been doing this every day ever since they had captured the unconscious spacer. “Don’t worry,” a soft woman’s voice spoke from the black cat’s collar and explained, “I’m not going near their face.”

Dimba gave an unbelieving smirk, and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Everyone knows that

Everyone knows that

The digital eyes on Bel’s protective mask lit up to look at their sleeping prisoner. Upper command had warned them so much of the Abantu Benyanga’s advanced Lanzer that could annihilate entire platoons of GL’s, but she and Dimba had taken them down easily. Maybe the Bastet took them by surprise? Or maybe… Bel stretched out, turning over slightly onto her back. They’re so young. They look like a child…

The spacer’s flight suit was so ornate, but more comfortable to lie on than one would think. The cat couldn’t help but begin kneading the fabric with her paws, feeling it. Way nicer than Nomfundo’s leather uniform. We should figure out what this is made from.

The cat grew so comfortable that she slipped into song, as she was known to do when she was most comfortable and content. It was a little tune that came to her in a dream, about falling for someone when you know it’s all doomed.

Without her noticing, the spacer began to stir, their face contorting until their eyelids revealed two lilac irises that slowly focused on the strange animal on their chest. “Hu…hmm… what…” The digital representation of Bel’s eyes turned to two upended half circles, and the oscilloscope display on her collar lit up. “Hello, there.”

Soon enough one of us hurts

And one is broken

The spacer, startled, began flailing in panic. “Ah! What the hel… Get off me!”

Bel leapt off of their chest immediately, and the prisoner crawled back to claim the corner of the sofa that they had been sleeping on as safe haven. “Where am I? What the hell are you? Are you a torture device?”

Bel, sitting politely on the other end of the sofa, looked at her body and back at the spacer, a green question mark appearing in the middle of her face. “Goodness, I’m not that heavy, am I?”

Kpt. Dimba’s large frame appeared over the two of them, and placed two plates of scrambled eggs onto a coffee table in front of the sofa. “I dunno, I’m beginning to wonder if I should be feeding you these.”

“But they make my coat so silky smooth!”

Everyone says that

Everyone says that

Nomfundo sat down on a lounge chair next to the sofa, and finally noticed that their captive pilot had woken up. “Oh. Hey. You like eggs?”

The spacer’s mind raced, uncertain as to what to say. What language was she speaking? Wait, it was the same language the cat spoke. I think I know this? Remember what they trained you to say when questioned. “I am Lieutenant Junior Grade Elysian Truth, service number XS-988-5532. I refuse to answer any other questions until I’m returned to my people.”

A pair of long, thin metal hands unfolded out of Bel’s collar, and they gently grasped a fork in one of the plates of eggs. Dimba shrugged. “Well, I hope you like scrambled, because it’s the only kind I know how to make.”

She pushed her plate in front of Elysian, and got up to go back into the kitchen. The voice in Bel’s collar spoke up. “Could you get me some pepper, too, please?”

In a way I find it hard to hate

Because I know you’re looking for a chase

Lt. Truth shakily held out a hand to the plate of food in front of them. They were so hungry… How long had it been since they had a bite? Wait. Stop. These are the eggs of the enemy. “N-no. I won’t eat this. It’s poison.”

More question marks appeared on Bel’s face, and she replied, “Doesn’t taste like poison to me.”

Elysian leapt to their feet, backing away towards the open door, pointing at their captors. “That’s because you’re Earthers! Cruel, demented savages who breathe toxic air, drink toxic water, and eat toxic food! I could never-”

The panicking pilot moved to their face to gesture to the mask protecting them from the chargon in the air and feeding them their medicine, which was currently not there. Their gloved hands came into direct contact with their skin, and what little color there was in their face drained away. “H…H-wh…Bu…”

And I like to get caught and then let go

It’s so reliable, so inevitable that

We’ll never be as one

Dimba sat back down with a third plate of eggs, and placed her combat boot-covered feet on the coffee table. Bel grabbed her plate with her metal claws and hopped over to the sofa as her commanding officer explained, “Your mask was broken in your explosion. Shattered, glass or plastic or something everywhere. Your face was kind of cut up but otherwise fine. Whatever that stuff was that insulated the explosion was good stuff”

The black cat with a mouth full of egg spoke up to add on, “You’ve been enjoying good old fashioned chargon-infused Earth air for the better part of a week now. Sorry to surprise you with that.”

Lt. Truth’s breathing grew ragged as a sick newborn as they hyperventilated, their feet pulling them towards the open door as their captors watched with mild interest. “N-no… NO!!” They turned and bolted outside with the greatest speed their weakened legs could give them. Dimba took a shoveled fork full of eggs, and then stood up to follow Elysian out.

“Seems like hyperventilating is the last thing you want to do if you don’t want to breathe in chargon.”

You were my better half, a bad habit

When it was open, when it was all in

The temperate African scenery swam around Elysian Truth’s vision as they looked in every direction for a method of escape. A jeep? A jeep can’t fly. The Type-Artemis’ torso? They would need the rest of it to get anywhere. The jeep will have to do, for now. They stumbled down the deck stairs, shuffling awkwardly towards the vehicle as they did their best to cover their mouth and nose. They couldn’t afford to breathe one more mouthful of the heinous substance. After pulling fruitlessly at the car door handle as their vision faded, the thin spacer turned and ran into the grasslands and almost immediately slipped and fell down a steep incline.

Underneath the shade of an umbrella thorn tree, Elysian caught their breath slowly, deliberately, as they began to more calmly figure out what had happened. The sky was a gentle green that day, with wispy white clouds floating by. Kpt. Dimba’s face similarly floated into view, looking down at them. “You done?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

It didn’t last, but looking back, I’d do it again

Cause everyone loves that feeling

Elysian went to town on the plate of eggs before them, as well as several pieces of toast, two strips of bacon, and 3 Siyanqoba MREs. They noted particularly that they were a fan of the bread they used.

“We got into like 3 more fights with your boys over your mecha, they ended up claiming the head and one of the legs, while we got the other leg and both of the arms. We’ve still got the torso out front, like you saw, but it’s mostly fried. Its computer is straight up missing, too. I’m guessing it jettisoned, but that’s probably a secret that you won’t tell us.” Truth nodded in understanding, but was afraid to ask the obvious question.

“Did they… you know, try to find me?”

Don’t be sad we do this all the time

It’s part of being cruel with our kindness

Nomfundo looked away awkwardly with a bit of tragedy in her eyes, while Bel didn’t try to hide her disgust at the situation, her face turning an angry red. “No, sorry,” Nomfundo tried to ease in, but Bel’s hackles were raised, her back arched and her tail high.

“What the hell!” she exclaimed. “All of our soldiers are told to never leave a comrade behind! I can’t believe they care more about a stupid hunk of metal than its pilot! It’s incorrigible!” But Lt. Truth could only shake their head.

“No, it makes sense. The computer was the actual valuable part, they were probably just fighting over the other pieces so you couldn’t have them.” But the thing that truly hit Elysian’s heart… “The AI in Type-Artemis was… close to me. Closer than my family.”

What I have, your heart is missing

That’s how I like it, I’ll never change it how we’ll

Dimba and Bel shared a look over Elysian’s grieving shoulders. “Well… far be it from us to judge where someone’s heart lies.” This sentence is the kind of confusing brain shock that centers a person.

“Wait, no, not like that. I think? How…”

“It’s silly, right? Who could ever imagine me falling for a human~!”

“I don’t really know what your relationship is,” the lunarian tried to explain, “but it’s probably not like that. It’s gotten me through tough times, even from childhood.”

Nomfundo placed a large hand on the sad enemy pilot’s shoulder. “Well, I’ve got some news that’s good for you and bad for us. We don’t have that Lanzer’s computer, and we’ve been patrolling this area for days looking for it. If it’s anywhere, it’s with your men. So if you want to see your friend again, you’d better head back home and demand it.”

“And you’re just… letting me go?” Elysian is shocked. They’re a prisoner, right?

“You’re just a kid, you don’t know anything. Take our jeep and get out of here.”

The lieutenant squinted, doing their best to keep their poker face straight. If they knew that they were the child of a military leader, or that they were probably older than Dimba, or…

Never be as one

Never as one, never as one, no

We’ll never be as one

Never as one, never as one, no

We’ll never be as one

“When I see you again, I’ll kill you,” is the last thing that Elysian Truth says to Nomfundo and Bel before they drive off in the Earth duo’s jeep in search of their own rescue party. The two of them wave the spacer off as Nobubele thought aloud to her companion.

“So, what do you think?”

“I dunno. Too boyish for me. Either go full femme or fist fight me, y’know?”

Bel rubbed against her human girlfriend’s neck from the perch on her shoulder as she replied to the contrary, “I want to eat eggs with them again.”

Art by https://www.instagram.com/devon_steak/

[justrambles]

(Beauty and the beast steddie)

No.11 — Photo

"I'm just saying, hair products can be a weapon. Remember the hairspray incident, Lucas? Hmm?"

"Urgh, you never let it down, so of course I remember. But why would there be a hairspray in the fantasy world? And why would you even pack it?"

"I don't care if you're using hairspray or not, just make the damned decision right now!"

"Uh, guys- you lost me back there but, what hairspray incident?"

The kids stop arguing and turn to Eddie. Dustin looks smug, Lucas is throwing his paws into the air, Erica looks like she's on the verge of stealing the dice box (Eddie designed it to make the kids rolling dice easier) from Eddie, and Mike is grinning like he knows what is to come.

"Well, you see, Eddie-" Dustin starts, "When I came back home from the camp, these guys had this absurd idea of sneaking up on me."

"It was a surprise party, Dustin. Of course we had to surprise you. It's literally in the name."

"So, I had to take defense quick — it required a swift thinking — and grabbed the hairspray off the desk and sprayed it on the intruder."

"I had to wash it off my eyes for ten minutes!"

"It worked perfectly," Dustin finishes with a grin.

It's adorable, how the kids have been friends all these years. But Eddie cannot help but notice a small detail in the story.

"Henderson, I never thought you'd be a hairspray type of guy," Eddie smirks.

Mike laughs as he hears the words.

"Oh, man. It was so terrible. You should have seen him!"

"It was not!"

Mike ignores the indignant scream and continues, "Dustin used so much hairspray at the Snow Ball, it looked like a bird's nest."

"No, it did not! It was cool!"

But then Lucas fake-whispers, "It did look like a bird's nest," and everyone's laughing. Even Dustin, as he mutters out "Well, maybe a little bit more than I should've. But it was cool."

"Man, I really wish I could've seen it," Eddie laughs, and suddenly he realizes he really means it.

He wants to see what these guys were like before.

Regular teenagers, living pretty normal and un-cursed lives.

As Eddie halts deep in his thoughts, the kids notice the change, too. They exchange glances, waiting for Eddie to continue. An idea strikes him.

"Hey, do you guys maybe have—"

"We don't have photos anymore."

But just as Eddie pitches the idea, Mike answers abruptly.

"I think Steve got rid of them right after we were cursed."

Oh.

"Oh."

It's a shame, he really would have liked to see their pictures, but he is reminded of how nervous Steve was just for being seen. Wouldn't have been easy, Eddie guesses.

But suddenly Dustin stands up.

"But we do have one. We do have one! Lucas, come on!"

***

"How did you even keep this one?"

They all crouch in a circle — now Max included — staring at the one photo Dustin and Lucas managed to save.

Apparently, they had kept it just before they got cursed, just before Steve got rid of everything else.

It's a black and white photo, taken at a fair. A boy with the wild curly hair is grinning in the middle, holding up a prize. A girl is next to him, trying to look nonchalant but massively failing, as the corners of her lips are shifting into a grin. She also has both hands full of snacks. Behind them is an older girl, pulling the kids close but her focus is elsewhere, and she's laughing at something.

Eddie follows her gaze to a blurry figure on the left. It looks like whoever they are, they are falling down. Eddie stares at the figure, only recognizable by the back of their head.

"So I'm guessing this is Dustin and Max?" Eddie points to the two kids in the photo.

"Yeah! We took them at the summer fair. And that's Robin, and uh, the blurry thing is Steve. He tripped just as the shutter went off. I told him not to put the bag there."

"It wouldn't have been big enough to trip on if you hadn't felt the need to buy every weird toy you saw," Max counters.

The kids are bickering again, deep inside the memories. Eddie senses a movement from the stairs and looks up.

Steve is there, trying to figure out what the kids are excited about. Robin's perched on his shoulder, whispering something to him. Eddie grins, mouthing a "hey" to them. Steve walks forwards.

"Alright, what are you kids up to?"

This gets everyone to look up. Eddie can see confusion in their eyes, secretly glancing between Steve and Eddie, trying to figure out what is okay.

"We have a photo," Max finally blurts out.

Steve squirms a bit at the mention of the word, but overall he stays calm, and Eddie feels oddly proud of him.

"Oh yeah? What is it?" he asks.

"The one where you fell, at the summer fair."

Steve groans and Robin just starts cackling, jumping down from his shoulder and hopping towards the photo.

"Come on, let me see. I missed this one. Oh my god, Steve, this is just too pathetic! I love this one, do you guys have more?"

The kids just shake their heads at the question, ready to tell her that the photo's the only one that exists. But then Steve, from behind Eddie, speaks up.

"I've got more. Uh, at the basement. I can get them for you if you want."

[loftwingsuarus]

ouchie wouchie (bridal carry version will go here)

MY FRIEND @loermsdxzo DID ALL THE COMBAT WRITING WHILE I SAT WITH MY ASS ON MY THUMBS

“Why didn’t you write them doing bokator” well you see I’ve never taken on someone in hand-to-hand combat but I beat the shit out of my friends (consensually) with a staff many times

~~~

“We had some prior training with weapons before we moved here," Citra says. Not that Citra or Rowan need training in any capacity, but they need a safe area to spar in. "Mind if we use one of the mats?"

"Of course, that’s what we’re here for," says the person operating the training area. They have no reason not to believe Citra.

“Great. We have a score to settle.” Citra walks into the actual training room and grabs one of the staves. She gives it a little toss in her hand to test the weight.

"Yours is heavier," the woman says. "Go easy on him." Citra tilts her weapon so it’s held tight between her hand, wrist, and the crook of her elbow.

"He can take it,” she says. The woman gives her a skeptical look.

Rowan picks one of the weapons at random. They would get on with it if no one stopped them. 

“If you don’t use the safety equipment, you’re going to have to sign a waiver.” Citra and Rowan glance at each other. Neither of them used any kind of safety equipment during their apprenticeship. The punishment for failing to meet expectations was injury. Rowan shrugs.

“Which one’s faster?”

She sighs and pulls out a tablet before accessing the document. They each write in an electronic signature.

“Are we good?” Rowan asks.

“You can change your mind and use the safety equipment whenever you like,” she replies in exasperation. She was born post-mortal, but working here makes her wish for the caution that humans once had. People are stupid as fuck.

Citra and Rowan take the floor, which is a hilarious thing to write about two people who will not be ballroom dancing. They tap their weapons once before they start, if only because they were trained to do so.

There’s no reason to start by circling around each other, but they simultaneously forget that they’re sparring with staves, and not doing bokator. The woman watches them both like they’re crazy.

Citra always attacks first, and her first tell is always swapping the side of her staff. It catches almost everyone off guard. Except Rowan. The sound of their weapons clashing echoes off the walls. The staves slide off each other. Citra swaps her staff again, attacking from the side.

Every blow is parried. Rowan knows he can't beat her at speed. He plays a strong defense instead. Citra can swing at him a thousand times- she won’t break through when they’re facing each other head-on. No opening with him. 

Citra circles around, and pretends to slow down. Rowan finally strikes. She blocks fast, then uppercuts with the other end of her staff. He swings again with a weak downward cross. Citra’s staff meets it with twice the force- his weapon recoils. Citra pivots on her lead foot, and thrusts her staff into his ribs. The impact makes him stumble.

She starts bearing down on him from the side. Rowan is met with a flurry of blows. He’s cornered, but she doesn’t relent. He moves completely on instinct as Citra drives up the pace. She tests his defense again and again. But even from a weak position, he can match her full strength. And Citra is easily frustrated. Rowan is caught off guard when she slams her weapon down- and vaults off the ground to kick the wind out of him with her knee.

She doesn't mean to pummel the shit out of him, but she miscalculates. Citra aims low to knock him down. Instead something cracks in his leg. It’s a nauseating sound. A blow like that would take out anyone. Rowan doesn't even wince.

Citra’s heart twists for a second in panic. He finally takes her by surprise. Citra barely blocks him on instinct. She stops fighting after that. Something else drives Rowan to keep going- she’s never seen him like this before. When he knocks her to the floor, she lets him. The ground shakes as Rowan slams the end of his weapon into the floor, just beside her head.

"Yield," he rasps. She does not do that. Citra stares up at him with wide eyes. She's gasping for air. They both are. 

"How are you still standing?!"

Rowan tilts his staff to the side and lets it fall, making sure it lands away from her. A second later he collapses. Citra rolls onto her side, and pushes herself up. She shuffles next to Rowan. Even with clothes on, she can see a distinct fracture where she landed a direct hit on his leg. Luckily there is no skin puncture, but it doesn't look good either.

"Why didn't you dodge that!?" Citra yells, more out of panic than anything else. He lays there for a moment, and does not move.

"Too slow, I guess," Rowan mumbles with his cheek against the floor.

The woman working at the training center hurries over.

“For fuck’s sake,” she mutters. “How bad is it?”

Citra prods his leg as lightly as possible with her fingertips. He hisses in pain, then lets out a shuddering breath. Citra has officially grievously injured or otherwise killed three out of the four important men in her life.

"Oh, fuck. I’m so sorry. Why did you keep going?"

Rowan mutters something incoherent. He didn't even notice he got the shit beat out of him. Maybe becoming immune to his own pain response is not ideal.

“I can call for a drone,” the woman tells them, “But we need to get him outside the building for it to pick him up.” 

“I can do that,” Citra says. The woman gives her a skeptical look.

“He'll be easier to carry with two people.”

“Fireman’s carry will work. I can do it myself,” Citra says.

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“I only need to get him out of the building.”

The woman doesn’t even know why she’s surprised. The situation doesn’t call for starting an argument, so she doesn’t.

“Fine. I’ll call for help then.” She steps back, and pulls her phone out of her pocket.

“Okay, we’re doing this.” Citra turns Rowan over so that he’s laying flat on his back. 

“Can you move your leg?” Rowan tries, but his body stops him.

“One of them,” he answers. Citra manually pushes his knees up and stands over him. She anchors his feet to the ground with her own, so he doesn’t turn into a pinwheel when she tries to pull him.

“Give me your hand.” Rowan does, and Citra pulls until his arm is fully extended. She pauses right there. “I’m going to lift you up. Don’t put any weight on that leg.”

“I won’t.”

In one swift motion, Citra kneels, flips him completely onto her back, and grabs his non-injured leg with her other arm. She reaches around to grab his hand, pinning it to the same leg. Rowan doesn’t comprehend anything until Citra stands to her full height again. He just swoons from her strength.

“Are you okay?” she asks. She can’t see his face from the way she’s carrying him. Rowan makes some incoherent noise. He is now a potato sack with a view of Citra’s ass.

"Congratulations on winning that match," she says, even though he did not. "Your prize is a trip to the healing center."

"I win a date with my girlfriend?” he says weakly. Citra would normally shoot back her own quip, but she already fucked up for the day.

“Yeah, you do.”

[flowersdaggersviolasandblood]

Flower Girl

Name: Pero Ophiin (She/Her)

Race: Wood Half-Elf

Class: Druid (Circle of the Land)

Background: Outlander

WARNING SPOILERS AHEAD!

It's side quest time bby! Because I'm too under leveled to handle the Paladins of Tyr for now, so that's the goal atm. So, let's go back to figuring out Kagha's secret.

So Pero and her ragtag gang went into the swamps and discovered Auntie Ethel being harassed by two men. Not knowing the full context of the situation and Pero only knowing the disguised Hag as a kindly old lady, she came to her defense. I switched on non-lethal for this, but one of them accidentally died because he got ensnared and took damage (oops).

As they were exploring the swamps, Pero was able to deduce that there was an illusionary veil that concealed the true visage of the swamps. It was here that they saw that the sheeps were actually Redcaps (didn't get a screenshot, sorry ;A;). She also met the monster hunter, Gandrel, and because Astarion is not in my party (and because Pero is a kind person who wouldn't harm him senselessly) my man got to walk away. Pero tried to get information on who it was he was hunting, but Gandrel opt to not tell her.

We'll get back to Auntie Ethel later, for now, Pero and the gang went to find the secret letter that called Kagha out on her bullshit. Returning back to Emerald Grove, unlike Torment, who used this evidence as a reason to kill Kagha, Pero instead tried to convince Kagha to see the error of her ways.

After dealing with the Shadow Druids, with the full help of Emerald Grove, Pero was deemed a Faithwarden, a Druid with enough high status to be listened to throughout all circles (so there's a possibility we might meet more Druidic NPCs or settlements :D). So now Pero is decked out with some new weapon drip!

Now that the grove is safe for the Tieflings to reside in, Pero will soon focus her attention on taking out the Goblin camp. But until then, I still wanted to handle the Paladin's before continue on, so more level grinding! Before we continue, some cute companion stuff. Starting with Gale, he taught Pero how to unlock the Weave and they both shared an intimate moment. I still intend to romance Halsin, but goddamn is it hard to do so when 2 easy options are right in front of you XD

As for Wyll, we got a special little dialogue moment between him and Zevlor upon discovering his new form. While at camp, Wyll asked Pero what was it he saw when she looked at him. In which Pero told him she still see the good ol' Wyll who is trying to do what is right.

Pero eventually told Astarion about Gandrel and learned further about Astarion's past and his relationship with Cazador. A little cute rp thing I think is cute is that Pero has taken up the role of "Rogue" in terms of lockpicking and disarming traps (her stealth & sleight of hand is a +4 and +2 respectfully), so I like to think that she learned how to do so (aside from the aid of magic and inspiration of course lol) from Astarion & Shadowheart. Speaking of Shadowheart, when I decided to ask her how Pero was holding up, she said this cute little dialogue. Being nice pays off :D

With that over with, back to the level grind. I decided to trigger the combat with the gnolls, and because Pero failed the Arcana check to identify them, she attempted to comfort the dying Hyena, only to discover something sinister. Because of this, we got surprised and I ended up fighting more Gnolls than intends. Successfully took them on tho.

Despite fighting more enemies than usual, didn't hit that 3rd level mark yet. So let's go to Waukeen's Rest and help them out!

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Rosethorn and Evvy Do the Battle Islands

Ok, so I am still very much adamantly of the opinion that Tamora Pierce, like Naomi Novik, has never written a bad book in her life. That said, of all the Circle Universe books, Evvy's story just kind of slides out of my head. It does not tend to stick the way other books do. That said, it gives a new perspective in the Circle Universe that we don't often get. Evvy does not have a magical connection to three foster siblings, and she, like Briar, just survived a war and is dealing with pessimism, PTSD, and trauma-induced misanthropy. Not having three siblings in your head and being all of ten years old makes dealing with that HARD. Let's talk Melting Stones.

*Circle Universe Spoilers below; proceed with caution*

Evvy is not ok when this book gets going. She takes self-defense from a gang of bullies a step too far and Rosethorn has to take her away from Winding Circle for a while. Unfortunately, Rosethorn and Evvy's traveling companion, Dedicate Myrrhtide, is an absolute dick about not only Evvy's recent behavior, but also about not respecting that Evvy was *checks notes* IN A GODDAMN WAR. Even Rosethoren tells him that he deserves the broken nose Evvy gives him when he blatantly disrespects the "do not touch us to wake us up or get us out of meditative trances because PTSD" boundary that both Evvy and Rosethorn set. He respects it with Rosethorn without question, but because Evvy is a child--and worse, a child her percieves as having "behavioral issues"--he fully does not respect that boundary. Evvy has to fully show him her scars from where the Yanjing mages whipped her feet to ribbons when she was taken prisoner for it to get through Myrrhtide's thick-ass skull that she MEANS it.

The fact that Evvy has to PROVE her trauma to Myrrhtide pissed me off enough that while a lot of this book slips out of my head, that interaction never ever has. Literally nobody is OWED proof of your trauma, and fuck them for putting you in a position where you feel like you have to prove it to them. JFC. We do NOT stan Dedicate Myrrhtide in this house. We like him EVEN LESS than Dedicate Crane. At least Crane had a damn heart.

When Evvy and Co. arrive at the Battle Islands, my geology professor dad would be very surprised and proud of me that I called "HOLY TITS VOLCANO" when I first heard that crops were dying and water sources were going acidic. It was a little frustrating how long it took everyone else to figure it out, but a green mage and a water mage really shouldn't be expected to get it faster than they did, and Evvy is a student mage still, and her education was a bit piecemeal because...*gesures broadly*.

What was interesting was watching Evvy learn to like and appreciate humans again in real-time while also being explicitly called out for thinking that rocks are superior to humans. That's such an understandable position to take for Evvy, because she got betrayed HARD by people, and becoming stone literally saved her life in Gyongxe. If I were a child and lived through that, I'd also prefer rocks to people. Hell, experiencing that as an ADULT I'd probably come out the other side preferring rocks to people.

Some of this also drives the plot, because Evvy misses some pretty big red flags from Flare and Carnelian--our antagonist magma spirits. The fact that they get the island evacuated before the volcano really blows is kind of miraculous, and the fact that Evvy and three village kids who got trapped with her on the island during the eruption survived is even more miraculous.

Evvy's experiences ultimately lead to her choice to become a novice at Winding Circle, which honestly is fine. It's fine.

I don't honestly have a ton to say about this one, other than it's doing something very different from what the Circle of Magic Quartet did, and Evvy was, for me, less compelling as a protagonist than Sandry, Daja, Briar, and Tris were. That said, I actually think that Evvy's story is absolutely CRITICAL in the Circle Universe, because I have to imagine that Evvy's is a much more representative story of the world.

Our Circle Quartet protagonists are unique; Evvy's story could graft onto any number of neglected or abandoned kids. It's a critical story to be told, and I appreciate that the book does not hide how difficult recovery and learning to trust humans again can be when you aren't atypically mature and supported. For that, I think Evvy's story is an invaluable addition, and I suspect it speaks to a demographic of kids and adolescents that desperately needs more representation and attention. Pierce does not shy away from the fact that reality happens to kids too, and the rest of us need to open our eyes and see that too.

[truckreincarnation]

‘Neath Dark Waters || The Final Hours [1/3]

Getting walloped in the face with rocks aside (easily taken care of with a quick healing spell), it seemed like the discussion was reaching an endpoint. Even if… even if Esmée was as compelling a diplomat as ever, reaching out to her directly, even if Yuliya denounced their justice, there was something burning in Manami’s core that wouldn’t let her listen, even if she could hear it. She couldn't let Harriet reach her heart now, whether she wanted to or otherwise. Not yet. Not yet.

“I’m still not convinced there’s anything to negotiate.” She turns to face everyone, anyone else who isn’t Germain. “My role is to facilitate my King’s will. He wants the place gone, so I want it gone. Simple as!!”

Back to Germain. Eyes narrowed.

“But you. You take away my ink, you steal my kill… I might have lost connection with my Domain in this ritual, but I think we can spare a little time before the big finale. And I’m going to get what I want out of this, too!”

While the words drip like venom from her fangs, there’s a curious disjoint to it. The slight echoey lilt to her voice, the reverb itself, almost sounds ecstatic.

"I h»¶Të you... I h»¶Vê you so much...!! For that, you’re gonna have to stand in for your dumbass boss one more time. Do it for me!”

Germain raises a hand defensively over their chest, only stammering out a string of incoherent, confused chirping sounds. Their eyes are wide with fright, ears drawn back, flat against their head. Pettiwhisker’s back arches, as they let out a hateful snarl at Manami.

“Run!”

Germain bolts - crouching low as their digitigrade legs launch them with a surprising show of force, leaping out and away from the summoning circle. 

In the blink of an eye, Manami’s taken to the air, keeping her gravity cannon trained squarely on Germain.

“No! You don’t get to run away, not this time! You’re going to have to show more conviction than that if you want me to believe this is worth my time!! Give me something to work with here!”

She snarls, ‘pupils’ narrowed to pinpricks.

“R-Really? Are you s-serious right now?” Regaining some of their composure, Germain’s voice sounded downright indignant. “Th-That’s what you’re upset about? F-Fucking… kill-stealing?” 

Germain jumps again, perching themself on the back of Francis’s chair. Momentarily, they stop to hiss at Manami, before they leap again, away from the intensifying metallic crackling of her weapon. Manami’s gun, hissing in return. 

“The k-king is d-dead! Who c-cares how? You g-got what you want, your m-mission is com- yeeOOOWR.”

Their exasperated voice devolved into a panicked, squawking yowl as their feet never connected with the ground, held aloft by a bright blue beam of energy.

“My mission…? My mission? You think just getting to point B from point A is good enough, even if you let me say I did it?! Come on, you of all people should know better than that! What’s the point if that’s all this amounted to?!”

She keeps them held there in the anti-gravity field, shaking them a little bit for emphasis as she stares daggers through them. They flail wildly, struggling against the gravity field as their claws slash at open air.

“We d-don’t need to - urgh - why are we f-fighting?”

“Why wouldn’t we? That’s what we’ve always done, but I’ve been holding back for a looong time. Even if I get credit here, that doesn’t mean I got to play the actual game-- FUCK!”

Pettiwhisker - now in their full-sized battle form - rams into Manami, knocking the air out of her chest as her grip on the gun weakens. Her extra set of hands scramble into position to keep from dropping it, and while it doesn’t slip out of her grasp, the field around Germain dissipates. Her look of shock splits into a toothy grin, and her toothy grin splits off in a flicker of static. A mimic wouldn’t have the benefit of speed, but it could keep Pettiwhisker occupied long enough for her to make a dash for the Lynchpin themself.

And so she does, at a breakneck pace. She’s on them in double time, claws digging into their undershirt as she hoists them up physically, staring them dead in the eyes. That creepy, wide smile hasn’t left her face.

Germain has a pained, almost fearful look to them, as they hold tightly to Manami’s arm - for their own support, rather than to push her off. Their eyes wide, searching for some meaning in Manami’s expression - fixated on that frightful smile. 

“You think standing around here talking is an appropriate way to kick off the endgame? After sitting on your claws this whole time, you’ll only raise them against Calum?” The distortion around her hands almost appears to be spreading to Germain.

“... Appropriate?” They struggle, more out of obligation than anything, against her grip. “S-Stop treating this like it’s a g-game! These are p-peoples’ lives!”

All that gets from Manami is a brief, quizzical look, followed by more laughter.

“After all this time here, you still don’t get it? We’re all just players in this second game of life! If you’ve got some kind of problem with that, maybe you should actually try to stop me…? A hero’s supposed to give the antagonist a good fight!”

To punctuate her statement, she musters all her strength and takes off with Germain in tow, whirling around at freakish speeds to slam them against the husk of the great tree. It’s forceful enough to splinter the bark with a resounding crack. Germain’s body twists in pain from the impact. A quick, forceful cough lets out some blood. They grip Manami more tightly, their breaths coming out in slow ragged gasps as understanding finally dawns on them.

“... Oh.”

Germains hands lowered from their grip on Manami, hanging limply at their side. Their head sinks as their expression goes… empty. No more fear or frustration. Quiet acceptance. Manami’s distortion continued to spread, a corrupting influence that Germain no longer bothered to stop. Their hair hangs over their eyes, which casts a dark shadow over their face. With their pallid complexion, it was easy to see them for the corpse they were.

Manami leers down at their limp form, almost disappointed.

“Right. I forgot. You aren’t a hero anymore… That’s too bad. I was hoping you’d show me what you’re really capable of, but if you’re going to be so dull and boring about this, maybe I should stop wasting my time! I’ve got better things to do, anyways.”

The glimmering reflection of the lake catches her eye from their current vantage point.

“Take some time to cool off and think about it, maybe. You know where I’ll be if you ever change your mind…!”

Without another word, she swings around, beelining straight for the surface of the water. At the last moment, she pivots back upwards, hurling them in without a second thought and dodging the consequent splash with a stutter courtesy of her Domain. She lands at the water’s edge so quickly and forcefully that she leaves long claw-mark trails in the soft terrain, brushing herself off absentmindedly.

“... Sheesh! That was kind of a wash.”

She turns her back on the water.

“Oh well~! At least it’s done now…”